


Cabins, Coziness and Conspiracies

by evakuality



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Angst, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-17 10:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16514747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: Even.  Fucking gorgeous, beautiful, amazing Even.  The guy Isak may have had the smallest crush on ever since they met.That’sthe guy Isak has to sit in a car with for hours on the way to the cabins they’ve hired for the ski trip.aka, the one where Isak and Even have to share a bed, their friends are strangely obsessed with their lives and things are not exactly as they might appear.





	1. Arrivals and Announcements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arindwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arindwell/gifts).



> It's the wonderful Arin's birthday today, and I wrote this for her. I hope you have the very best birthday, my friend, and have all the joy you deserve for the rest of the year!  
> I would like to thank all the people who stepped in to read this for me, and cheered me on along the way. Your help and support has been invaluable and I love you all <3  
> Updates for this should be roughly once a week, depending on how fast I manage to edit :D

What the actual _fuck?_  That cannot be possible; Isak’s friends cannot be doing _that_ to him.  To check, to make absolutely sure that his friends wouldn’t put him in that position, he actually says the words.

“What the fuck, Jonas?  Why?”

Jonas’s voice is almost its usual level of chill and reasonable, but there’s a tiny hint of amusement underlying it when he replies.  He thinks this is _funny,_ the fucker.

“There’s no room in the car, Isak.  It’s already me, Magnus, Mahdi and Eskild and all our stuff.  And you know you’re the last one ready and we want to get to the cabins as early as we can.  It’s fine, though. Even’s happy to pick you up and bring you later.”

And _that_ is the problem, Isak thinks glumly.  Even. Fucking gorgeous, beautiful, amazing Even.  The guy Isak may have had the smallest crush on ever since they met.   _That’s_ the guy Isak has to sit in a car with for hours on the way to the cabins they’ve hired for the ski trip.  Cursing his stupid job and his boss’s refusal to let him have even an hour off to go early, Isak groans. And okay, the guy was nice enough to let Isak take Monday off next week, but he wasn’t to be budged on today’s finish time.

Sighing, Isak mumbles an agreement.  It’s all he can do, and it’s not like he can tell Jonas _why_ he doesn’t want to be in a car with Even _(alone_ with Even, his brain reminds him; all alone with no buffer between him and his damn emotions), so now he has a mere few hours to get his head around the idea of all that time alone with the unattainable guy he has a crush on.  


“Halla, Isak!” Even’s cheerful voice rings out when Isak emerges finally at the end of the day.  It does things to Isak, that voice, burrowing into his chest and warming him from the inside. Isak manages a weak smile and waves at Even to show he’s heard.  “You’ve got your stuff?” Even continues. “Or do you need to go home first?”

“Oh.  Uh … no, I have it all.”

Because he’d thought he was driving with his friends.  Because he’d thought he’d be considerate for once, and not make Jonas backtrack.  So now there’s nothing between him and the several hours with Even. Swallowing down his panic, and settling the oversized backpack more firmly on his shoulder, Isak makes his way towards the car and Even’s beautiful, smiling face.  He can do this.

Half an hour later, Isak’s managed to relax a little.  It’s not quite as awkward as he’d feared it might be. Even’s focus is on the road, his brow furrowed as he sweeps his eyes over the landscape ahead of them, and his hands confident on the wheel and the gearstick.   _Don’t think about those hands on gearsticks, Isak,_ he cautions himself while hot blood flushes through his body as he watches the way the veins flex and move under the skin on those hands, the fingers long and sure and beautiful.  Instead, he lets his gaze drift upwards, allows himself to take a few moments to watch Even while he’s distracted. It’s cold, but Even is wearing a shirt with its collar open and the sleeves rolled up.  Isak shivers, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s because he feels a sympathetic chill from Even’s totally inappropriate attire or whether it’s the sight of his arms with their lean muscles peeping out from under those rolled-up sleeves.  Moving his eyes upwards doesn’t help, either. The sliver of Even’s collarbone Isak can see sends tingles down his spine. It moves as Even changes gears, the sinews shifting around it, making Isak’s throat go dry as his head turns briefly towards Isak.

“You done looking?” Even asks, his eyes crinkling as he turns back to the road, and _fuck._

Isak can feel the ugly red creeping up his neck, and is only thankful that Even can’t see it.  “Just making sure you know what you’re doing,” he says, and it’s a miracle that his voice sounds normal with no betraying squeaks.

Even laughs.  “I’ve been driving for years, Isak.  Relax.”

Resisting the urge to mutter, “fuck you,” Isak grimaces and screws up his nose.  It’s not his fault that he’s never been a particularly confident passenger, nor that he’ll never drive one of these death traps himself.  Trying to distract himself both from being trapped in such a small space with Even and from visions of the car careening off the road and into one of the many snow banks lining the edges, Isak turns his attention to the music.

“What is this shit?” he asks as Even reaches over to turn up the song playing through his phone, and trying to ignore the way Even’s musky scent reaches him as he does so.

Even turns a horrified gaze onto him.  “Shit? _Shit??_  You don’t know Nas?”

“Um … should I?”

Shaking his head and returning his eyes to the road, Even sighs.  “And you call yourself a ‘90s hiphop fan!”

“I am!” Isak protests.  “But the good stuff. Like _Fuck the Police,_ you know for when you want to feel cool.”

Even laughs.  “This is cool, too.  You’ll see.”

And over the course of the next hour, Isak does see.  It’s beautiful, mellow and soft. It suits Even, but it also calls to something in Isak.  It’s hiphop, but not as he’s used to; no aggressive beats to lend anger to the lyrics; they stand on their own.  He leans his head back on the headrest and smiles as he looks out the window and lets the music wash over him. Even glances over at him eventually, and grins.  There’s a light in his eyes when Isak turns to look. He looks pleased, happy to have shared this with Isak. There’s a softness sitting around his eyes when he smiles this time.

“You like it.”  It’s not a question.

Isak shrugs.  “It’s okay.”

Laughing again, Even turns back to the road.  “We’re not far away now,” he says.

Isak starts and glances down at his own phone.  It hasn’t seemed like two hours already; they’ve actually maintained an easy, casual vibe together.  The panic that had swamped Isak at the start of the journey seems ridiculous in hindsight. It’s been pleasant, calm and even fun.  And now that they’re almost there, Isak feels almost a pang of regret at the idea that they probably won’t recreate the same feeling during the next three days, the peace lost in the cacophony of the nine other people who are going to be there too.  Sighing, Isak resolves to treasure the last few minutes they have here in this bubble. Nas is still playing (or possibly playing again; Isak thinks he recognises the lyrics in this one), and Even is humming softly. It’s been nice, Isak thinks, that he hasn’t felt the need to talk through the whole drive.  There’s something really wonderful in being with someone who doesn’t feel the need to fill every moment with chatter.

“This has been nice,” he says.  “You’re very soothing.”

Another glance.  “That’s not very flattering,” Even says, but there’s a smile in his voice.  “I could add more excitement if you want.”

Isak snorts.  “No thanks. I like it like this.”

Even’s eyes remain fixed on the road, but Isak can see the quick bloom of a smile at the corner of his mouth and the small tilt of his head.  It squeezes something painful in Isak’s chest that someone this great, this apparently perfect for Isak, has a girlfriend and is thus completely off limits.

They pull up in front of the cabins they’ve rented.  One is lit up and they can hear music drifting out of it once they shut the car off.  It’s a heavy, thumping beat and it shatters the illusion of peace Isak has felt on the drive.  He sighs, shoulders his backpack once Even has opened the trunk, and makes his way towards the cabin.

“Eveeeen!  Finally; we thought you’d died, but it was just your usual old man driving, huh?”

It’s Mikael, careening down the steps to grab Even into a huge hug.  He has a drink in one hand, as does Jonas who exits the cabin behind him to pull Isak in for a short side-armed hug as well.  Even’s laughing, protesting against what Mikael had said, and Isak thinks he can’t get enough of that sound. He shivers, acutely aware now that he’s amongst other people that he needs to keep his eyes and feelings to himself.  So he turns to Jonas and grins.

“Where do I dump my stuff?  What room did you get us?”

There’s a fleeting look of guilt on Jonas’s face and Isak squints at him.  But it smooths out so fast, Isak thinks he might even have imagined it. In its place is Jonas’s trademark grin, eyebrows raised and eyes sparkling.

“Well … we decided that we all needed to mix it up a bit, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mikael adds, hearing the conversation and turning to look at them.  “We’re supposed to be on a getting to know each other trip, right? And that’s not happening if we all stick to our usual groups.”

Isak has a sneaking suspicion he knows where this is going, but it takes Even’s sharp intake of breath and speedy spin towards Isak to make his heart really sink with understanding.

“What … are you saying?” he asks, even though he’s pretty sure he knows.

“We all paired up with someone from the other group,” Jonas says.  “And …”

“And you guys get the big room in that other cabin,” Mikael adds cheerily, pointing it out as if he doesn’t feel the subtle tensions simmering under the spoken words.  Maybe he doesn’t, Isak thinks. Or maybe he’s trying to calm Even down, because Even looks almost as unhappy about this situation as Isak feels.

“The big room,” Isak says, his chest freezing.  That generally means …

“One big bed?” Even asks, and there’s thinly disguised panic in his voice, making Isak’s heart slide even further into his shoes.  The thought of sleeping in the same bed as Isak is _that_ unappealing?

“Isaaaak!”  Magnus yells as he barrels out of the cabin finally.  “You get the biggest bed, dude. It’s awesome! Come on.  I’ll show you.”

Unwilling to actually go along with this, but unsure what else to do, Isak sends a quick glance towards Even, whose face is shadowed and who has lowered his voice and his head to hiss something at Mikael, who is shrugging with an unrepentant grin.  Gulping, swallowing the sadness he feels that Even is so clearly unhappy with this situation, Isak trails after Magnus towards the other cabin.

“It’s you two, and Jonas and Mikael, and Eskild and Adam in here,” Magnus says as he switches on the light.  The room is bathed in a soft glow which hides some of the stark bareness of the room. That puts an end to Isak’s thought that he could sleep on a couch or something.  The room has a few mismatched chairs and a small table. Nothing that’s big enough to accomodate Isak’s body. He sighs, follows Magnus into the bedroom. It’s okay, bigger than he’d expected, but still.  There’s that one bed, looming in the corner. Worse, it’s pushed against a wall and there’s no real space to pull it out into, so one of them will have to crawl over the other to get out if he needs to in the middle of the night.  

Isak drops his bag at the end of the bed and groans, flopping down on one side.  

“I’m sorry,” Even says as he enters, ducking his head a little to get under the low slung door frame.  “I know you don’t want to do this.”

“No,” Isak says, desperate to make this as easy as he can for Even.  “It’s … it’s fine. There’s two sets of bedding. We’ll be okay.” He shrugs.  “It’s only three nights, right?”

“Yeah,” Even agrees.  “Only three nights.” He puts his own bag on the floor by the bed and looks around.  “I can survive three nights,” he mutters. Isak thinks he was trying to say it under his breath; he’s fairly sure he wasn’t meant to hear it.  But he did and his heart sinks further. This, staying in a room with Isak, is something that has to be _survived._  Pain twists in Isak’s chest again and he sighs.

“We’d … uh.  We’d better get back to the others,” he says.  “There’s beer waiting.”

“Yessss, beer!” Magnus yells, apparently oblivious to the undertones flying around the room.  “We better go or those assholes will have drank them all.”

Isak laughs, almost amused despite himself.  “Magnus, you know we brought enough to drown the entire city of Oslo.  No-one’s running out.”

But Magnus has already gone, running through the main room and out the door before Isak has even stood up.  He exchanges resigned but amused looks with Even, who shrugs and makes his way through the cabin and into the cold air outside.  


Hours later, Isak is sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wall behind him.  He’s a little fuzzy around the edges, and the reassuring solidity of the wall behind his head makes him feel more grounded and a little less like the room is about to tilt and slide into the floor.

“Okay boys,” Yousef says, cutting through the cheerful chatter surrounding him.  “We should sleep. It’s ski time tomorrow.”

Eskild pouts.  “But we were only just getting started,” he protests, and Even laughs.  The musical sound draws Isak’s attention, making his stomach churn with something he doesn’t want to acknowledge, not now that they’re about to go and lie down on the same bed together.  The beer does nothing to take the edge off his panic at that idea. His belly freezes and his mind starts whirling, sending him all sorts of embarrassing ideas about the ways in which he’ll probably make a fool of himself once he’s relaxed in a space only a few inches away from Even’s body.  The chill spreads as he contemplates it all.

“You ready, bro?” Jonas asks, looming over Isak and holding his hand out towards him.  Isak starts and realizes he’s been so caught up in his panic that he hasn’t noticed everyone else moving and gathering their things together.

“I guess,” he says, taking Jonas’s hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet.  Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Even watching them with a tiny frown creasing the skin between his eyes.  As if he senses Isak’s gaze, Even turns to Mikael and slaps him on the back. His laugh rings out again and Isak winces.  He’s not going to survive this night.

By the time they’ve said their goodnights to the others, and watched everyone move away into their own rooms chatting and laughing, Isak’s panic has subsided a little.  Not enough that he can be calm and relaxed with Even but enough that he can carry out the basic tasks required for him to get ready to sleep. Isak avoids Even’s eyes, scuttling out into the bathroom with his pyjamas and toothbrush as soon as he can.  Behind him, he can hear Even grumbling to himself as he starts rummaging in his own bag.

Isak stares in the mirror once he’s changed, examining himself.  His eyes are wide and he can see the look of terror in them. With any luck, though, Even won’t recognize it.  His hands are trembling as he tries to get paste onto his brush and he forces his eyes shut, takes a deep breath and looks at himself again.  Makes his fingers carry out the necessary actions, refusing to be dictated to be his biology.

“You can do this,” he tells himself.  “It’s just a fucking bed.” His own disbelieving stare mocks him as he carefully rinses his mouth and places the toothbrush in the small jar that’s been placed for that purpose, then backs out of the bathroom.

Steeling himself, Isak pushes open the door to their room and smiles at Even, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed wearing just a pair of sleep pants.  The smile is stiff and awkward on Isak’s face, particularly as he has to force his eyes away from Even’s chest and onto his face, but he hopes it can put Even at ease.

“Bathroom’s free if you want it,” he says and Even just nods once.  He stands and makes his way past Isak with his own toothbrush clasped in his hand, careful not to let his shoulder brush against Isak’s as he passes.  The distance makes Isak’s eyes sting; how’s he going to cope if even touching Isak makes Even feel this way?

Isak looks at the bed and realizes he has a new dilemma.  Who’s going to be the one to sleep by the wall? Who’s going to have to climb over the other one to get in and out?  He’s paralyzed with indecision, weighing up the options. On the one hand, if he takes the wall side, Even doesn’t have to climb all over him to get in (and why does his breath punch out of him at that idea?) but on the other hand, that would mean Isak would have to climb over Even if he needs the bathroom in the middle of the night, and that idea freezes his bones.  What if he has a boner and it gets snagged on Even somehow while he’s trying to get past him? The thought is so horrifying that Isak closes his eyes against the hot shame that floods him, and when he opens them again, Even is standing next to him, clearly making the same assessments.

“Flip you for it?” he says, turning to look at Isak for the first time, and his eyes are now their usual crinkly masterpieces.  Isak breathes out a sigh of relief; maybe this won’t be too awkward after all.

“Yeah, okay,” he says.  “How do we decide?”

“Heads you’re by the wall, tails I am?”

Isak nods, and Even carefully extracts a coin from his jeans pocket and holds it out to Isak to spin.  He takes a breath, smiling, and lets it spin up into the air. It lands a few feet away and Isak can’t bring himself to look at it so Even strides over and glances down.

“Tails,” he says, and there’s a grim acceptance in that voice that twists something in Isak’s stomach.

Silently, they both slip into the bed and settle down.  Isak wraps his duvet around him as if it can shield him from Even’s presence, but he can do nothing about the quiet breathing he can hear behind him, nor about the way Even’s scent permeates the air as the night closes in around them.  He stays steadfastly on his side, holding himself rigid so he doesn’t accidentally slip back into Even’s space. Behind him, Even’s breaths even out into sleep, but Isak can’t follow. He stares into the darkness, paranoid that if he lets himself sleep he’s going to do something embarrassing.


	2. skiing and slipups

It’s warm.  That’s all Isak can think as he blinks awake the next morning.  It’s early, and he groans a little, annoyed that he’s conscious at this hour.  He can hear the clatter of dishes and pans coming from the kitchen, the hubbub of voices and the loud laughs.  That’s probably what woke him, he thinks. He doesn’t want to move from this cocoon, but knows he needs to, since they agreed to go skiing early today to beat the rush.   _That was a fucking stupid idea,_ he thinks; _who came up with that offensive plan?_

Isak stretches, trying to get his body ready to face the day, but then he freezes as he realizes why he’s so warm.  There’s an arm slung casually over his hip, and a nose nuzzled into his neck. Fuck! Even has apparently mistaken Isak for his girlfriend in the night, and Isak doesn’t know what he’s going to do to get out of this without making the situation completely awkward.  His first instinct, the asshole part of him, wants to stay here and revel in it. He’s never likely to get this close to Even again, and his body feels really nice where it’s pressed against Isak’s. Not to mention how heady the way Even smells is. It’s a musky, warm scent mixed with the cologne he must use and Isak wants to drown in it forever.

But the panicked, anxious side of Isak knows he has to move.  There’s no way Isak can laugh this off casually. So he gingerly tries to squirm out from under Even’s possessive arm.  It’s not easy; it pins Isak to the bed, and every time he tries to wriggle away, Even snuggles closer. Even’s arm tightens on Isak’s waist, and his nose sinks further into Isak’s neck, making him feel a little like he’s trying to escape from a very friendly octopus.  An unconscious friendly octopus. Warm breath shivers over Isak’s sensitive skin and he has to close his eyes to push away the feelings that rocket through him. Every inch of his skin is tingling with the sensation of Even’s touch, and Isak has to get a grip if he’s going to get out of this.

Carefully, Isak lifts Even’s arm and slides it backwards off his body.  That allows him to slip to the side of the bed and sit up. Behind him, he hears Even’s small whimper as they lose contact and his heart stops.  He stills, making sure he’s motionless as Even shuffles in the bed, the crackle of the stiff sheets the only indication of where he is and what he’s doing.  The noises stop eventually, and Isak breathes a sigh of relief before standing up and making his way out into the kitchen.

“Ah, one sleepyhead awakes!” Eskild singsongs.  “We thought you were going to sleep all day.”

“All day?” Isak says, affronted.  “It’s barely 7.” He grabs some toast that Jonas has been preparing and stuffs it in his mouth.  

“Hey!  That was mine!” Mikael protests.

Adam laughs.  “You snooze, you lose,” he says, then sniggers as Even stumbles into the room.  “Speaking of snoozers …”

Even flips him off while blearily making his way to the kettle to flip it on.  Isak keeps a wary eye on him while trying to pretend his focus is on the other guys.  It doesn’t look like he knows what happened this morning, and Isak breathes another small sigh of relief when Even catches his eyes briefly and gives a tiny crinkled grin.  There’s no hint of awkwardness there, so Isak’s pretty sure he managed to escape unnoticed.

When they return to the room to get dressed for the day, Isak doesn’t run to the bathroom to hide.  Instead, he just turns his back on Even and pulls his things on as quickly as he can. He can hear the rustle of Even’s clothes as he does the same and something clenches tight in Isak’s chest.  

“You’re so fucking slow,” he says, when he finishes and Even’s still paused with his arms not quite into his ski gear.  Even’s eyes drift quickly away from Isak’s face and his cheeks are stained red. “You can’t get dressed without your girlfriend to help?” Isak adds, trying to puncture the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Even gives him a stiff little smile as he finally finishes getting ready.  “I’m perfectly fine by myself,” he says, picking up his other gear and starting for the door.  “And I don’t have a girlfriend anyway.”

Swallowing, Isak grabs his own stuff and follows him out.  He feels like he’s really put his foot in it this time. How could he have missed something as big as Even breaking up with his girlfriend?  If pressed, Isak would admit that his crush means he’s spent more time than is probably wise watching Even and noticing things about him. So maybe it’s a very recent thing, in which case Isak has _really_ fucked things up with those comments.

It’s quiet on the drive up to the ski field.  Isak’s been bundled into a car with Even and Yousef, and the two of them seem to communicate via a series of eyebrow wriggles and wry smiles.  Thankful that the trip is short today, just twenty minutes or so, Isak lets his head rest on the window and watches the scenery roll past. It’s uninspiring; one snow covered tree after another along a winding road and Isak can feel his mind starting to wander.

Isak’s almost completely zoned out when he hears Yousef speaking quietly to Even.  His senses snap to alert when he hears the name Sonja, and he tunes in part way through the conversation.

“... sorry you broke up.”

Even huffs a quiet laugh and shakes his head.  “It was coming for a long time. I’m kind of over it.”

“Only kind of?” There’s a weird urgency in Yousef’s voice that confuses Isak, but Even just laughs again.

“What do you want to hear?  That I’m completely happy?”

“Nah.  Just checking that you’re not dying of sadness or something.”

“No, nothing like that,” Even says.  “It’s mostly a relief, but there’s a tiny bit of ...I don’t know? Nostalgia?”

There’s a small twitch in his cheek, and a twist to the corner of his mouth that Isak can see.  He looks sad more than nostalgic, and Yousef seems to pick up on it too.

“You need a new girlfriend, bro.”  Yousef glances over at Even, gives him one long, considering look, then adds, “or a boyfriend.”

Even glances to the side again, smiles briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.  “Nah, I’m fine for now,” he says and his voice sounds light enough that Isak might have been imagining the sadness of moments before.  “Not that I’m against the idea, in theory,” Even says, his voice soft with some sort of private emotion. Isak thinks his eyes flicker towards the spot where Isak is sitting, and wonders if Even’s uncomfortable having this conversation with Isak in the car, but that could be his imagination; he’s still frozen by the casual mention of Even possibly wanting a boyfriend.  “But I only want something if it’s going somewhere, you know?”

“Okay!  Okay, I’ll leave it,” Yousef says, holding his hands up.  “I just want what’s best for you, Even.”

“I know,” Even says, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders as he smiles over at his friend.

Yousef settles back against his seat, apparently satisfied.  He looks Even over for a long moment, then smiles again. “You seem happier,” he says.

“I am.”

They fall back into peaceful silence and Isak worries the conversation over in his head.  It’s still possible that this morning’s cuddling was a reaction, left over from long nights spent with his girlfriend, but the knowledge that they’re broken up (and that Even might possibly like guys) does put a whole new spin on it.  Isak’s body floods with remembered heat as it responds to the thought of Even snuggled so tight in behind him.

They arrive at the ski field to a blinding display of white.  The sun is shining, reflecting off the snow and Isak has to squint to be able to see any of the others, but by the time they’ve gathered all their gear out of the cars and shivered their way to the entrance, his eyes have adjusted and Isak is ready for this.

There’s something really calming about skiing, the swish of the snow under his skis, the glare of the sun, the quiet peace of the slopes.  It’s a place where you can be entirely alone even while surrounded by people, and focus only on the one goal of getting back down the slope.  

The day starts out well enough; Isak takes the chair lift with the others and they all make their way down the slope at their own pace.  Isak’s left alone pretty quickly, the occasional skier sliding past him, but mostly taking his time and enjoying the peace. His second run ends up with just him and Even in the chair lift, and he shivers at the proximity.  Something about his newly discovered knowledge of Even’s sexuality makes every moment even more fraught. It’s not just a stupid crush anymore. No, Even’s gone from unattainable god to possibly attainable human.

“So … uh.  Do you ski much?” Isak asks, to try to make things less awkward.

“Oh?” Even shakes himself out of whatever thought he’s been caught in and crinkles a beautiful smile at Isak.  “No, not often. We used to go a lot when I was little, but in the last few years it’s been better not to.”

“Okay,” Isak says, and smiles.

“You see,” Even continues, “Sonja lost a leg skiing when we were only about 15, so it’s not a good reminder for her.”

“Oh!” Isak says, feeling horror crawl up his spine.  “That’s … that’s awful. How did it happen?”

“No-one’s really sure,” Even says, his voice serious and his eyes fixed on Isak’s.  “It might have been a land mine. Or just a really sharp rock.”

Isak can feel disbelief warring with his adoration and willingness to accept everything Even says.  “A land mine?”

“Mmmm,” Even says.  “Or the rock. Either way, she lost it.  But she’s better now, and with the aluminium technology in her leg you’d never really know it’s fake.”  He smiles at Isak, a quick flicker that overcomes the serious expression he’s been wearing. “We were going to come skiing you know, just before we broke up.  It was going to be her big ‘fuck you’ to the rock.”

It’s obvious to Isak now that Even’s spinning a tale and he huffs.  “Aluminium technology? You’re fucking joking?”

Even can’t keep his face straight anymore, small grins peeking out at the corners of his mouth as he tries to brazen his way through it.  But he can’t manage it and soon he’s laughing so hard he’s doubled over in the small seat. Isak can’t help the responding snigger that sound drags out of him.

“You really thought there might be a land mine on a ski field?”

“You’re such an asshole.  It’s a bad thing to joke about!”

“Nah,” Even says.  “It made you laugh anyway, didn’t it?”

Isak can’t argue with that logic.  But then, Even can generally make him laugh regardless of what he’s saying.  Isak’s not about to admit to that now though. The biggest issue he has right now is that apparently his dick is completely excited by stupid stories, because it’s starting to make its presence known and it’s a really big problem when Isak is still stuck in this small seat with Even.  Or maybe it just likes Even, Isak thinks. The press of his leg is sending shockwaves through Isak’s every time he moves and his arm brushing against Isak’s stirs something in his belly. A little boner is just a natural response to that sort of stimulation, Isak thinks. But even so, he’d rather get out of this seat and get somewhere by himself so he can firmly tell it to get itself together.

They fly down the mountain together, though, because Even seems to have decided to stick to Isak like a burr today.  He grins over every time they swoosh back into the same area, and his laugh rings out often. It could be worse, Isak thinks.  Being with Even isn’t much different than being alone, and it involves a superb view. Even swoops in front of him and raises his poles in triumph when he sneaks ahead.  Isak’s belly swoops in response. Even looks _really_ fucking good on skis.

By the time they get back down it’s lunch, and they all pack back into their cars to scoff the food someone prepared for them all.  Probably Eskild and Yousef, Isak thinks. Those two seem like the most hospitality-conscious of the group. For lunch, Isak is squashed in with Jonas, Elias, Eskild and Mikael.  It’s an interesting group, not a set of personalities he’d have pictured working together, and yet. Jonas and Mikael seem to be thick as thieves, often communicating with the same raised-brow conversations Even and Yousef had used before.  Eskild gets along with pretty much everyone, and he has them all in stitches.

“And then … this poor, innocent little gay boy here tried to insist he didn’t know it was a gay bar.”

Mikael smirks over at Isak.  “Seriously?”

After this much time, Isak is able to laugh about it.  “Yeah. I was hiding,” he says. “It was important to me that people not know.”  He shrugs. “It’s different now.”

“Yeah, now it’s pretty damn obvious when he sees a pretty guy,” Eskild says.  “He gets it all over his face.”

Isak freezes.  Surely he’s not that obvious?  He really doesn’t want to think about this group of people all knowing exactly how he feels about Even.  “I’m not … I don’t. Do I?”

“Isak,” Jonas says cheerfully.  “You don’t remember that guy in third year?  With the floppy dark hair? You used to stop mid sentence any time he entered a room.”

Isak forces a laugh, tries to think of a way to drag them off this particular topic.  “Well, it worked didn’t it? I got a date out of it.”

Jonas shrugs.   _“One_ date, yeah.  That’s not something to be proud of.”  

Isak laughs and punches him in the arm.  “Fuck you, asshole. Like you did any better with the girls you were obsessed with.”

“Oh man,” Elias says. “You remember how useless Even always was when he had a crush?  He’d go full-on dramatic romantic gestures every single time. It was embarrassing.”

Mikael laughs.  “That one time he dragged all the paper towels out of the dispenser to make the guy have to talk to him?  I can’t believe that actually worked.” He shakes his head. “Or the way he sent Sonja a movie quote every day until she agreed to go on a date.”

Elias shakes his head.  “We’ve all done dumb shit in the past, I guess.  Good thing we’re all a lot more together now, huh?”

Eskild laughs and agrees and the conversation moves on, much to Isak’s relief.  He doesn’t really want to imagine Even making these gestures for other people. But it does settle one thing; he hasn’t done anything like that for Isak, so this hopeless crush is still probably just as hopeless as it always was.

They go up the mountain again once they’re done.  This time, Isak makes sure he’s alone. He doesn’t want to have to watch Even and pine over his sorry ass.  He can’t keep his thoughts away from him, though. Today has been a lot, and it’s hard now to ignore the fact that Even is single and that there have now been multiple mentions of him being attracted to guys.  Hopeless crush or not, Isak has to fight to push his feelings back down now. The worm of excitement keeps crawling up into his heart, but so does the shiver of fear. Now that Isak knows Even is available, the nights in bed with him are going to be just that little bit harder.  In more ways than one, probably.

He’s still thinking about Even, not paying enough attention to the course, and doesn’t notice that he’s veered slightly to one side.  He doesn’t notice anything until he’s hit a small rock and finds himself tumbling breathless into a deep drift of snow. Worse, he’s winded and is lying there unable to move when a startled, concerned face looms over his own.  Of fucking course it’s Even. That’s the one thing that could make this worse: falling over in front of the guy whose fault this whole thing is in the first place.

“Are you okay?” Even asks, his face looking worried and his voice soft and gentle.

“Yeah,” Isak says, and is horrified to hear the breathless quality of his voice.  He hopes it’s from the fall and not from Even’s unfairly gorgeous face. “Yeah,” he tries again as he wriggles to sit upright.  A wave of sickness hits him and he groans.

“Here, stick your head between your legs,” Even says and Isak nods.  He does feel better once he’s done that. But it all takes time and by the time he’s ready to stand up and keep going, he’s sodden and feels the cold seeping into his bones.  He just hopes the rest of the trip down the slope will keep him warm, because otherwise this could be very unpleasant.

It doesn’t help.  By the time they get down the mountain and back to the cabins, Isak is chilled right through.  His tumble had left him soaked, even with the protection of his ski clothes. He’s shivering, his body racked with shudders as they all pile into the cabins.

“Hey, you should take a shower,” Even says, coming into their room behind Isak as he dumps his stuff by the bed, too cold to even bother storing it tidily.  Even’s right there behind Isak, his warmth soaking into Isak’s skin and it takes a few seconds for Isak to realize Even has his hands on Isak’s arms, rubbing them to give him warmth.  He shudders again, this time for a different reason.

He’s still uncomfortably turned on from the conversation earlier in the day, and this is not helping.  Still, Isak can’t bring himself to move away, so it’s with a sense of real loss that he feels Even drop his hands to step around him and into the room properly.

“Yeah, I should,” Isak agrees, trying to cut through the feelings pulsing in his body.  “It’s fucking cold.”

Even laughs, glances back over his shoulder at Isak.   _“It’s_ not cold, Isak.   _You_ are, because you can’t seem to manage to stay on your skis.”  The glint in his eyes shows he’s teasing, but Isak feels a flood of embarrassment anyway.  He hates that Even, of all people, saw him like that.

Sputtering with indignation, Isak scowls.  “I was … there was a lot of puff in the snow and I couldn’t see the rock.”

Even’s laughter is elated now and he winks.  “Uh-huh.”

“I’ll show you tomorrow.  I’m the fucking master at skiing.”

Even backs away, his face alight and his eyes crinkling; he’s saying something but Isak can’t focus on what it is.  It’s devastating. He’s loosened his ski gear, and has stripped away the outer layers, leaving only the fitted woollen underthings.  The top sits snug over his chest, allowing the definition to show through, and Isak’s throat is suddenly dry.

“I … uh.  Bathroom,” he sputters as he grabs his towel and runs for the door.  Behind him he can hear Even’s laugh again and he closes his eyes. It’s not fair what that sound does to Isak’s insides.  He manages to settle himself while showering, and if that involves a little jerking off to calm his nerves, that’s between Isak and the shower walls.

By the time he’s dressed and made it back out to the main room, everyone has gone across the the other cabin and Isak is left to contemplate the day by himself.  It’s been long and tiring, and his head is in a whirl. The comments the other guys were making seemed so pointed, not just Jonas and Isak’s friends, but Even’s friends too.  It’s like they’re all hinting at something. Or, that’s probably Isak’s overactive imagination because he wants to think that some of the conversation today meant something, even when on the surface it was entirely innocent and friendly.  Besides, Even just broke up with his girlfriend, and no matter how happy he might _say_ he is, that’s a big thing to be done with.

Isak steels himself, puts on his jacket even though it’s only a few steps from one cabin to the other, and makes his way across.

“Eeeeeey, there he is!” Mahdi cheers.  “Now we can get this party started!”

“Can’t live without me, Mahdi?  I’m flattered,” Isak says, coming into the small room and looking around for somewhere to sit.  There’s only one spot left: at the table squeezed between Even and Elias. Normally, Isak would just slide to the floor and lean against a wall, but his body is sore today after the fall he’d had and the use of muscles that haven’t been pushed that hard in a long time.  Groaning internally at the thought of being pressed close to Even like that, Isak makes his way to the table and flops into the available seat.

It’s uncomfortable; his arm is squashed right up against Even’s and every time he tries to move or do something, it sticks, pressing painfully.  Even moves his after a few moments of this, to lay it along the back of Isak’s seat. It’s much less cramped like that, and Isak knows that’s why Even has done that, but his heart still stutters in his chest and his body tenses every time that arm brushes along his shoulder blades.

“You okay?” Even whispers, bending so only Isak can hear, and Isak shivers as that breath ghosts over his ear.

“Yeah,” he says.  “Just a bit cold still.  I’ll be fine.”

Even smiles, lets his gaze rest on Isak for a few beats and then squeezes his shoulder.  That doesn’t help at all, Isak thinks, and tries to focus on what else is going on.

They eat, some pasta Mutta and Eskild have made, and it’s chill.  Very chill. Isak’s not combusting every time Even moves, not at all.  Because Even is eating one handed, leaving his other arm across the back of Isak’s chair, and some of the others have noticed.  There are smirks and knowing nods when they think Isak isn’t looking and Isak’s paranoid that they _know,_ that his feelings are all over his face and everyone has noticed the way he feels about Even.  It all combines into some sort of actual torture, one designed specifically with Isak in mind. Even’s arm is casual, relaxed, and he’s showing no signs of being affected by any of this at all.  And yet, in a completely unfair turn of events, Isak’s body is on fire, his skin tingles where Even’s warmth seeps through his sweater, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from sinking back into that warmth.

By the time they’ve all had a few drinks, Isak’s eyes are drooping.  His head is sliding sideways, and he keeps barely catching it, jerking upwards just before it hits Even’s shoulder.  Even’s eyes are getting crinklier every time it happens, and Isak rolls his eyes when he wiggles his brows at him.

“Throwing yourself at me, huh?” Even says, quietly.

“Fuck you,” Isak says.  “I’m just really tired.”

On his other side, Elias hears and nods.  “Yeah, I’m exhausted too,” he says. “If we’re doing that all again tomorrow, I need to get some beauty sleep.”

“You need a lot more than sleep to get beauty,” Adam says and Elias pushes him.  

It starts a cascade of people getting up and moving away from the table and the other chairs, apparently all agreeing silently that it’s time to pack it in for the night.  Unfortunately, Isak is so tired that he forgets to put his jacket on again, and even in the few steps between the cabins, he’s shivering. He’d never fully warmed up again after skiing that day and his body is shaking with shudders he can’t control by the time they get into the bedroom.  It’s cold in here since none of them have used the rooms all evening, and Isak shakes harder as the front door is closed behind them and a gust of frigid air rushes into the cabin.

He scurries into his pyjamas, too cold tonight to even bother with his teeth; he’ll just have to brush extra thoroughly tomorrow.  Then he scoots into bed and pulls the duvet around him trying to still his shakes, and thinking wistfully of the moment when his cocoon will warm enough for him to sleep properly.

Even comes back into the room, changed and with his hair slicked down, wet from a fresh wash.  He seems to have showered, as his body still has the damp look of someone newly dried off. He crawls onto the bed beside Isak and scoots up in behind him.  Isak tries to ignore his presence, but the warm scent of his shower gel wafts over to him and he can hear the way he rustles around, trying to get comfortable.  Isak’s body is still trembling and he hears Even huff a small laugh.

“Isak?”

“Hmmm?” he says, trying to pretend he’s almost asleep now.

“Come here.”

Isak stiffens, his senses immediately on alert.  “What ... what do you mean?”

“I mean, come here.  You’re freezing, and you’re shaking the bed.  Let me warm you up a bit.”

“Uh … I don’t …”

Even reaches out, slips his hand in under the duvet Isak has pulled around him, and tugs on his sleeping shirt.  “You don’t want me to die from lack of sleep due to your shivering, do you?”

And that seems reasonable enough, so Isak lets himself sinks backwards so that his back is pressed against Even’s chest.  He’d expected that Even would just wrap his arms around the whole package, duvet and all, but instead, he pushes on the blankets until Isak’s back is flush against his own and they’re both covered by all the bedding.

“There,” Even says with a satisfied sigh.  “That’s much better.”

Isak can’t quite agree.  Yes, it’s much warmer and his shaking is already subsiding in the face of Even’s warm heat surrounding him, with his arms pulling Isak in close and his leg propped over Isak’s.  But on the other hand, he’s literally surrounded by Even and his scent and his presence and it’s _doing things_ to Isak’s self control.  

“Relax,” Even says, as if that’s even remotely a possibility, and Isak laughs awkwardly, tension still thrumming in his body.

“Thanks for this,” he says.  “I’m okay now.”

He tries to move away, but Even clutches tighter.  “You’re still shaking,” he whispers against Isak’s ear and Isak can’t help the soft sigh that escapes him.  “You can stay. I don’t mind.” Even lets his head come to rest so that his nose is snuggled in behind Isak’s ear.  “I’m a bit cold too, and it’s nice to hold someone to get warm.” His voice is sleepy, relaxed, and Isak can tell that he’s almost asleep.

Because he’s weak, because he’s a fool, Isak lets his body melt back into Even’s.  It _is_ nice, Even’s right about that, and Isak’s still bone weary.  Now that he’s warmer, the exhaustion hits again and he can feel his eyelids getting heavy.  It’s too much work, too much effort, to try to move away, and there’s something really peaceful in being held like this.  It’s not long before Isak lets his eyes drift closed and he falls asleep, safe in Even’s embrace.


	3. boners and banter

Isak wakes, cocooned in blissful warmth again.  He stretches, feels the pull of aching muscles and his sore tailbone.  Something clicks in Isak’s back and he lets out an uncomfortable whimper.  At the sound, Even snuggles in closer. And  _ fuck, _ Isak’s attention is called to a very inconvenient part of his body making its presence known.   _ It’s just morning wood, _ Isak tells himself in a panic.   _ It’s not a big deal. _  But then Even’s nose runs up the back of his neck, warm breath brushes over his sensitive skin making him shiver, and Isak’s dick pulses.   _ It’s not just morning wood, _ he thinks, panicking even more.

“Morning,” Even says, tightening his arm around Isak’s middle.  His voice is sleep-roughened and gravelly, and it sends a shock right through Isak’s body and fires heat into his dick.  Isak closes his eyes and tries to pretend it hasn’t affected him.

“Morning,” he says.  “I should … I should probably get up.”

“No,” Even says, burrowing closer and hooking a leg over Isak’s.  “It’s too warm. Stay here?”

God, Isak wishes he could do just that.  It would be so easy to let himself relax back into Even’s embrace and enjoy the feeling of someone’s arms so firm around him.  But there’s his fucking boner, sitting there like a beacon, and it’s not like he can hide it from Even, whose hands are slipping uncomfortably close to a spot where it will become devastatingly obvious.  

“Mmmm,” he says, trying to act as if this is a normal way he acts with his friends.  “But don’t we have to go skiing again? The guys will be waiting.”

“No,” Even says, his voice a soft grumble.  “Don’t wanna.” He sighs, and the tickle of his breath takes Isak’s own breath away.  “It’s not … not as much fun as I remember.”

And that’s a truth Isak can get on board with too.  His body aches, and the idea of strapping on skis again and forcing it to endure another day while in so much pain is not appealing.  He sighs.

“I don’t want to ski either,” he admits shakily.  It’s almost easier like this, with his back to Even and his eyes on the wall opposite, to be open.  If it weren’t for his hard dick inches from Even’s fingers, Isak would be fine right now. Happy even.  “I hurt a lot.”

“Yeah,” Even says, and his breath whispers over the sensitized skin again, making Isak’s dick twitch in reaction.  “I bet you do. That was a rough fall.” He snuffles a little, pulling Isak back into him more tightly, and Isak stiffens when he feels a boner pressing against his ass.  Even seems unphased by it, so Isak tries to relax. It’s hard though, with the weight of Even’s arm so pleasant on Isak’s waist, and his fingers dangling so close to his own stiff dick.  And that boner, making Isak’s skin fire up where it touches. He takes a shuddering breath, hopes Even doesn’t understand why, and thinks it through.

Isak doesn’t want the others to mock him.  It was embarrassing enough being the only one who fell over yesterday, without being such a loser that he couldn’t even go back out today.  He can almost picture Jonas’s concerned glance, Magnus’s amused horror and Mahdi’s pity. Not to mention Eskild’s loving taunts. They  _ would _ be loving, Isak thinks, but they’d still be enough to embarrass.

“Hey,” Even says, as if he can read Isak’s mind.  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  His hand shivers closer to Isak’s dick as he hugs Isak to emphasize the point, and the part of Isak’s brain he can’t control thinks,  _ oh, but I do want to, _ before he can shut it down.  “We can … just stay here today,” Even adds, and Isak almost imagines he can feel lips brushing over his neck, but that can’t be.  “Who gives a shit what the others think?”

“Okay,” Isak agrees.  “We can stay here today.”

Despite Even’s protestations that this means they can just “stay here in bed, all warm and cozy,” Isak makes himself get up.  He can’t risk letting Even feel his boner, even though he’d been so supremely unconcerned about his own. There’s too much risk that Even will notice what Isak’s feeling and this whole thing will go right back to being awkward again.  It’s bordering very close to it already.

So Isak takes a piss, wills his boner out of existence and makes his way out to the kitchen where the others have all gathered with their gear.

“Isak, my small smelly angel,” Eskild says.  “This disheveled look may be chic on the runway in Paris right now, though god knows why, but it’s not exactly appropriate for the ski fields.”

Rolling his eyes, Isak says, “I’m not going.  I hurt too much.”

“Seriously?” Jonas asks, and Isak winces at the concern.  It’s exactly how he imagined it would be. “You need a doctor?”

Isak shrugs, embarrassed by the wave of attention this is calling down onto him.  “No, I’m fine. Just very stiff and a bit bruised. That’s all.”

Even’s been whispering with Mikael and Adam through the conversation and Mikael huffs as they come to the middle of the room with the rest of the group.  “This asshole’s staying here,” he announces as if it’s a huge problem and they all need to find a solution. He’s frowning as he casts one quick glance towards Isak, who’s still in his sleeping clothes.  There’s something concerned in those eyes and Isak’s insides shift again. How obvious is he being? Is Mikael worried that Isak is going to upset Even? Or … worse, is he pitying Isak for having this huge crush and no real chance?

“You’re staying too?” Mikael asks, and there’s suddenly a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips that quickly disappears.  “Well … well, that is a coincidence, isn’t it, Even?”

Jonas sniggers, but turns it quickly into a cough when Isak turns to glare at him.

“No coincidence,” Even says, frowning himself as he looks at his friend.  “He’s not feeling good, and I … um … skiing’s not great for me right now.”

There’s something in his voice that pulls Isak’s attention.  Even’s not looking at anyone and there’s an easy smile sitting on his face.  But there’s something in the tension sitting behind his eyes that makes Isak think there’s more here than just not enjoying their time yesterday.  Adam clearly notices it too, because he thumps Even on the arm and laughs.

“Well, if you two losers are staying here, then I expect a gourmet meal when we get back down.”

Even laughs with him, all hint of tension gone now, and Isak’s almost convinced he imagined it.  “Only the best for you, my prince.” He bows, ironically, kissing one of Adam's hands, and Adam flourishes his other hand, playing along.

“You hear that, Mikael?” he says, turning to his friend.  “I’m his prince.” It earns him an affronted yelp from Mikael, and the bickering continues as they all exit the cabin and pile into the waiting cars.

Once they’re gone, an awkward silence hangs between Isak and Even.  Or, Isak thinks while eyeing the way Even swings with ease into getting himself some food, maybe it’s just Isak who feels awkward.  The memory of the boners is seared into his mind and he can’t stop flushing whenever he looks at Even. It’s the tousled hair, the soft creases on his cheeks, the way his sleep shirt hangs wide at the neck, showing off the collarbones that had so attracted Isak on the drive here.  It’s like Even’s designed this look specifically to mess with Isak’s composure.

To distract himself, Isak pours himself a bowl of cereal and adds milk.  He screws up his nose when he sits down and tries it, but eats it anyway.

“You don’t like it?” Even asks, nodding at Isak’s bowl before shoveling in another spoonful of his own.

“I don’t really like breakfast food,” Isak says.  This is good, it’s  _ normal, _ and if the rest of the day is like this Isak will get through without major mishap.  “And this cereal is like cardboard.”

“I could make you change your mind,” Even says, winking at him over his spoon.  “I make the best eggs.”

Shaking his head, Isak smiles.  “I doubt it.”

“You doubt my eggs?  Isak, I’m hurt!” He presses one hand to his chest in mock agony and Isak snorts.

“No, I doubt that even your most amazing eggs will change my mind on breakfast food.”

“Hmmm,” Even says, tilting his head to examine Isak more closely.  “That sounds like a challenge.

Laughing it off, Isak takes another bite.  It’s still disgusting but he perseveres. They sit in silence again for a few minutes and once again, Isak is struck by Even’s ability to shut the fuck up and let the quiet sit between them.  It’s refreshing after all the noise and vibrancy of the last two days. They finish, and Even holds his hand out for Isak’s bowl. It should be illegal for someone to be this way, Isak thinks dizzily as his fingers brush against Even’s and heat sears his skin where they meet.  There’s an intensity to the look Even gives him, and again boners pop into his mind. He flushes, feels the heat swooshing through his body and ducks his head to cover.

“I … uh.  I’m going to shower,” he says by way of explanation as he pushes up and away from the table, and Even just nods.  He’s moved, and has his hands deep in the sink washing up their few leftover dishes and Isak has to squash the swell of affection the sight causes in him.  He has to stop this, right now. Even’s touchy, yes, flirty and friendly, but he’s like this with everyone and Isak allowing himself to think about him in that way is just going to end in misery.  Just because he’s kind enough to wash a few plates does not mean Isak has to fall over himself.

By the time he’s done with the shower, Even is dressed and back out into the main room.  He looks up and grins when Isak enters.

“Great,” he says.  “Time to get started on this gourmet cooking.”

He stands and starts making his way to the door, but stops when he realizes Isak isn’t following.

“Seriously?” Isak asks.  “I thought that was a joke.”

“I never joke about cooking, Isak,” Even says, grinning.  He takes a step back into the room, turns the full power of his smile on Isak and makes him weak at the knees.  Isak gapes, can’t think of anything to say, and Even laughs. “Are you scared? Is that the problem?”

“Scared?  Of cooking?” Isak scoffs, shaking himself out of it.  “Nei, I’m not scared. I’m the fucking master of cooking.”

“Okay then, let’s go, Master.”

Isak shivers again.  There’s a low, rough tone in Even’s voice that goes straight to his belly.  Staying here alone together might have been the dumbest idea Isak has ever had.  Not that  _ he _ had the idea; that was all Even.  But Isak’s the one who’s going to suffer from all this enforced closeness with this guy who has no idea what he does to Isak with just one look, so that’s going to be fun.  But even sarcasm can’t protect Isak from his own body, which flushes with excitement at the idea of being stuck close to Even alone all day.

They go over to the other cabin, where most of the food is, and Isak shivers again.  It’s cold in here. Even pauses right behind him and lets his hands fall to Isak’s arms.  “It’ll be better soon,” he says, winking at Isak as he moves past. “I’ll give you a workout to warm you up.”

Flushing at the innuendo, Isak shrugs and follows Even to the small kitchen.  Soon there’s an impressive amount of vegetables on the counter and table and Isak raises his eyebrows.

“I didn’t know we brought all this stuff,” he says.

“It can’t always be pasta,” Even says, glancing over at Isak with another one of his devastating smiles.  “And we have Muslim friends. Of course we have vegetables; it’s a bit easier than making sure all our meat is okay for them.”

Isak nods, but eyes it all suspiciously.  “I’m not sure I know what to do with all that,” he says.

Eyes alight with mischief, Even smirks.  “I thought you said you were a master at cooking.”

“I am,” Isak protests, feeling the blush at Even’s reminder of his boast.  “Just not this shit.” He prods at a bag of dried chickpeas that’s sitting to one side and grimaces.  They look gross and unappealing.

Even turns out to be a very patient teacher, not laughing much when Isak struggles with the pumpkin (who even eats pumpkin?  And who could predict it’s so fucking hard to cut?), and keeping him occupied all the way through to lunch. They have everything prepared, and Isak even eyes the chickpeas with less suspicion once Even has them boiling to soften up and has explained how this is the quickest method for preparing them, that it would have been better to soak them overnight but they don’t have the time now.  Isak figures Even knows what he’s doing, even if he himself has never seen the damn things actually cooked before.

“Do you remember when we first met, Isak?” Even asks leaning back in his chair once they sit down to eat, and picking up his sandwich.  

“Sure.  It was at that party Sana and the girls dragged us all to.  You had the best weed and Jonas was ready to adopt you on the spot.”

“That was a fucking good party,” Even says, his eyes going misty.  “But that wasn’t actually the first time.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No, and I’m horribly insulted that you don’t remember.”

Isak shrugs.  That night is seared into his memory.  The first sight of Even in his now-familiar jean jacket, with his hair slicked up and back and his eyes bright blue.  His plump lips making Isak’s body react when they closed around the joint. His laugh; that was what had tipped Isak over from admiration of beauty and right into helpless crush territory.  He can’t imagine there’s any way he’d have seen Even somewhere else and not have remembered.

“Yeah,” Even says.  “It was at a small Christmas market.  Sonja was working at one of the stalls selling hot drinks, and you came and bought one.”  He grins over at Isak and sniggers, though there’s a hitch in his voice when he mentions Sonja’s name and Isak can feel his insides squeeze.  And not just because of Even’s next words. “Then you dumped it all over my shoes and burned my big toe. It still hasn’t recovered.”

“No,” Isak says, his heart standing still.  He remembers that night, remembers how horrified he was, how embarrassing it had been.  Why does this shit always happen to him when Even’s there? “That was you? Seriously?”

“Yup,” Even laughs.  “I feel like you owe me new shoes -- and a new ego, since you just ruined mine.”

“Asshole.  It was dark and I was so fucking flustered.”

Even’s eyes intensify, and he grins again.  “Do I fluster you, Isak?” he asks, his voice low and rough again.  Isak holds that gaze, shivers. Tries to think of something he can say to that which doesn’t make him sound like the biggest loser with the most helpless crush.  Instead, he clears his throat and drags his eyes away. He hears Even’s soft sigh and grimaces. Why is he like this? Why can’t he just let Even flirt the way he does with everyone, and not make it into a Thing?

Even’s face drops a little, confused, and he sits back.  There’s still a smile there, but the twinkle has dimmed a little.

“All I can say, is I’m never cooking this stuff again.”  Isak waves his hand around at the preparation they’d done.  “Who knew vegetables were so complicated?”

Even laughs, pushes him and makes a comment about how he’s not much of a master and Isak protests.  The vibe goes back to normal, casual, and Isak is able to breathe a sigh of relief. Whatever’s been happening here, he needs to chill a bit more and just treat Even like a friend.  He can fucking do this.

They go back to the other cabin after turning off the chickpeas.  Isak’s strangely fascinated with them, and Even laughs at how much interest he shows, suggesting he add them to his list of things he can cook.  It’s peaceful after that for the rest of the afternoon. There are a couple of books lying around, and they both lounge on the bed and read a little.  Isak makes sure he stays on his side, not contacting Even’s body at all. The conversation is light, staying on discussing dinner, and then moves to silly memes once Isak gets bored and switches to his phone.  It’s genuinely one of the most relaxing days Isak’s ever had, and by the time the rest of the group crash into the cabins again he’s feeling much less sore and much more active. 

They’ve roasted the vegetables and added the chickpeas for a warm salad, and Isak feels a warm surge of accomplishment.  It may have been mostly Even, but the cries of appreciation and back slaps they both get make him feel good. Also, there’s the way Even’s somehow managed to flavor it; Isak thinks it’s one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

“This is amazing,” he says quietly to Even.  Eskild is currently entertaining the whole group with another of his stories, so there’s a moment where Isak is able to lean into Even’s space.  It draws Even’s focus right to him, and Isak swallows as he holds that gaze.

“I can amaze you with other tastes, too,” Even says, licking his lips in a way that might seem suggestive if Isak were allowing himself to think that way.  His eyes are warm on Isak’s and there’s a very slight brush of his finger along Isak’s leg, but it’s gone so quickly he thinks he might have imagined it.

Isak tenses, shifts a little, tries to act natural.  He thinks there might be something, but Even’s now smiling at Magnus on his other side, his eyes warm and his long torso leaning into him.  Isak forces himself to remember that this is just Even; he’s kind, he’s warm to everyone. Anything that seems like flirtation is just his nature and Isak needs to get a damn grip.

The evening wears on, Even’s touching him a lot, and every touch fires up so many little electric points on Isak’s skin that he’s quivering when they decide it’s bed time again.  When they get to the bedroom, Isak takes one panicked look at the bed, grabs his stuff and runs for the bathroom, squeaking, “toothbrush,” as he does so. He barely registers Even’s nod in his haste.

Even’s already in bed by the time Isak gets back.  In order to settle himself, he’s taken a shower as well as brushing his teeth.  It works insomuch as he feels cleaner, more refreshed. It hasn’t worked in that as soon as Isak sees Even’s face, crinkled eyes grinning at him from the bed, his heart starts thumping again and his palms bead with sweat.  

Trying to keep his eyes averted from Even, Isak climbs onto the bed and pulls his duvet snug around him.  He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore the breathing he hears behind him. Even shuffles, the sheets rustling under his body and then there’s a soft sigh.

“Isak?”  Even’s voice is warm and amused.  “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” Isak mumbles, and draws the duvet up closer around his ears as if to emphasize that point.  Even just huffs a laugh behind him.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks.  “I’m sorry if I pushed things too far today.”  There’s more shuffling and Isak can tell Even’s closer behind him now.  The mattress dips a little and there’s a warmth by his back. Even’s not touching him, though, for which Isak is completely grateful.  He lets his breath out in a whistle, hoping Even can’t hear it.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he says.  “It’s just …” Isak trails off, unsure of how to put this so he doesn’t sound like a desperate loser.  He turns over, wants to see Even’s face to gauge if he should even say something. Even’s eyes are wide and hopeful, fixed on Isak’s.  

“Just?” he prompts.  

There’s encouragement in those eyes, and it loosens something in Isak.  He closes his eyes briefly, so he can actually get the words out. “Just … I want to touch you, all the time, and I know I can’t, I know you’re just flirty and friendly, but …”

Isak opens his eyes, wants to see how Even has taken it.  He’s pulled back a little, a thoughtful frown on his face, but there’s no hint of disgust or horror.  “But?”

“But I want to think it means something else, and I know that’s an asshole thing to think when you just broke up with your girlfriend, so I’m just … not avoiding you.  I’m ... giving you space.”

Even sighs, huffs a short chuckle and looks at the ceiling.  “Fuck,” he says and Isak’s heart sinks. Now’s the moment he’s about to be let down easily, the moment where kind, generous Even tells him he’s way off base and Even’s never had thoughts like those in his life.  But then Even turns to look at him again and there’s so much naked fondness in his eyes that Isak has to close his own to avoid being swamped with emotion. “I didn’t just break up with my girlfriend. It’s been ages,” he says.

“But Yousef said …”

“Yeah, I haven’t really seen him since Sonja; he was just checking in.”

“Okay,” Isak says, and his heart is beating faster now, hoping that there might be some sort of chance, that he didn’t just make the biggest possible fool of himself.  That the fondness Even is showing might  _ mean _ something.

“Isak.  You must have noticed.”  Isak shrugs, which is difficult while lying in bed, but which he manages, and Even laughs.  He reaches out one hand and runs a finger along Isak’s jaw. “I’m attracted to you,” he says and Isak’s heart stops dead for a moment.  “I touch you whenever I can. That’s not … fuck, that’s not just being friendly.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” Isak says.  He lets his own hand reach out, lets himself press a gentle finger to the skin of Even’s face, to trace the strong line of his eyebrow, and trail down his nose to land on his lips.  Even closes his eyes, lets his mouth drop open and Isak sighs.

“You’re not assuming,” Even says, opening his eyes and piercing Isak with the naked attraction in his own expression.  He pushes the duvet so he can slip his hand under it, then tugs suggestively on Isak’s shirt. “You want to come over here, maybe?”

Despite his misgivings (this is all happening so fast), Isak lets himself be drawn towards Even.  Lets him slide his hand into Isak’s hair in a way that allows him to cup Isak’s face. And  _ fuck, _ that hand is so big and it feels so fucking good, that Isak’s bones begin to melt.  If he thought the boner he had this morning was a lot, he hadn’t anticipated the way it might feel to have Even’s hands on him with intent.  Nothing’s even happened yet, and Isak’s skin is so fired up, every point of contact tingling with anticipation, that he thinks he’s going to vibrate right out of his own body.

“Isak,” Even whispers, and then his lips are on Isak’s and everything else drops away.

They kiss for what seems like forever, but also no time at all.  Even’s lips are soft and warm, and the feeling of them moving over Isak’s own sends flurries of heat through his entire body.   Isak’s panting, flushed with heat when they finally break apart and Even leans his forehead on Isak’s.

“You have no idea,” Even says, his breathing still ragged and his voice rough, “how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I think I do,” Isak says, and Even laughs, slides his arms around Isak and pulls him in tighter.

Isak’s body is buzzing and he’s so keyed up after what has happened, but he’s betrayed by a yawn.  He sighs, lets his body drag him towards sleep. They need to talk but that can happen tomorrow. For right now, Isak’s happy to enjoy being wrapped up with Even like this.


	4. mistakes and misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the 'mild angst' tag comes in, sorry. Just grab something soft and cuddly, wrap yourself up in it and hold on for the ride. It's also a little smutty, if that helps <3

They wake to blinding white light seeping around the edges of the curtains of the room.  Isak blinks. It’s not been bright like that since they arrived, and he’s unsure what it means.  But then Even mumbles something incoherent and snuffles so that his nose is pressed into Isak’s neck again and Isak forgets his confusion in the bliss of the moment.

“Morning,” Even says, and this time Isak allows himself to enjoy the way that rough, sleep-deepened voice sounds and the way Even’s breath sends goosebumps right up Isak’s spine.  He shivers, presses closer to Even. They’ve moved in the night to their usual sleeping position, Isak’s back to Even’s chest.

“Morning yourself.”

Even’s hand slips down on Isak’s body, coming to rest on his hip, just above the boner he’s suddenly sporting again.  Isak sucks in a sharp breath as Even presses his lips to Isak’s neck. Even tugs, very gently, on Isak’s hip, hinting for him to turn around.  Isak can’t resist that power and so he does as Even wants, turns, lets his free hand slide up to Even’s shoulder. Even’s eyes are very blue as they roam over Isak’s face.  He moves his hand down further, so that he can tuck it under Isak’s thigh and pull it over his own. That presses Isak’s boner right into Even’s and he gasps as they brush together.

“Isak,” Even says, letting his nose caress Isak’s.  It’s so much, so gentle and Isak lets his eyes drift closed.  Then there are lips on his and he sighs into the kiss.

It doesn’t take long before Isak’s body is restless and he’s pressing himself against Even.  The pressure is building and Isak can feel fire and heat taking over his body.

“Isak,” Even says again, and there’s so much raw need in his voice that Isak opens his eyes to look at him.  His eyes are blown wide and his lips are hanging open, a glorious flush sits high on his cheeks and he’s panting.  “Can I touch you?” he asks and Isak nods.

Then Even’s hand is inside Isak’s sleeping pants, and it’s cupping his ass, pulling Isak in more tightly.  The kiss this time is desperate, firing up every synapse in Isak’s body. His own hand scrabbles at Even’s waistband, uncoordinated now that he can feel every inch of Even’s hand on his bare skin.  He finally manages to twist enough to slip it inside Even’s boxers, when Even’s own hand moves to Isak’s hip and he has to pull back from the kiss with a stuttering gasp.

“Even.  Fuck, Even!” Isak gasps at the first soft brush of Even’s fingertips on his dick.  The touch is so light and so delicate that it does nothing to reduce the desire already flooding through Isak.  His own hand moves to Even’s dick and Even moans, the sound rough and raw and needy. Impatient, trying to get a firmer grasp, Isak pushes at Even’s boxers, wants them gone out of the way.

Even huffs a laugh against Isak’s neck as he drops his own hand away from Isak to help, making Isak whimper at the loss of the sensation.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Even whispers and Isak shudders at the fondness in that voice.  Then Even tugs on Isak’s own pants, pushing them enough that Isak can kick them off. He has no idea where they land when he flicks them off his foot, and he doesn’t really care because there’s a hand back on his dick and it’s firm and strong and it feels like heaven.  Then Even’s lips are on his again, and Isak can’t focus on any one sensation. The hand on his dick is moving with swift, sure strokes, and Isak feels like he should protest, should want to take this more slowly. But it’s so good, and the build up of pressure is so intense that he can’t bring himself to do it.  Instead, he takes hold of Even again, mirrors his movements on Isak. Even’s hand stutters in its rhythm, his breath coming in gasping pants.

“I’m not going to last,” he says, with a short laugh.  “What are you doing to me?”

Isak laughs, too, breathless and heady, his lips ghosting close to Even’s.  “Me either. Three nights of boners, you know …”

Even sniggers, his hand stalls and he pulls back to look at Isak.  “Three nights, huh?”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t the same,” Isak says, then trails off on a whining gasp as Even’s hand picks up pace again.  

There’s fire in every inch of his body now and he’s hard pressed to keep up, his own hands losing focus every time Even twists his hand at the top of his stroke.  However, he manages to find some sort of rhythm and it’s not long before Even stills, tenses under Isak’s hand then shudders through his release, warm liquid spilling over Isak’s hand, and his breath shimmering over the heated, sensitized skin of Isak’s neck.  It’s enough to send Isak toppling after him, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through him, and his skin reacting to Even’s touch where he’s absentmindedly trailing his fingers as his breath returns to normal.

“Yeah,” Even says continuing Isak’s thought from earlier as he presses a hot kiss into Isak’s neck, “I was the same.”

Isak leans down, wriggles so he can get access to Even’s lips, kisses him.  It’s tired and boneless and sweet. Even’s arms come around Isak and make him whimper as the kiss deepens.  Soon, however, reality intrudes. Isak’s hand is sticky and his other arm is starting to feel uncomfortable.  He shifts, kisses Even again before rolling so he’s lying on his back with Even’s arm tucked under his head.

“I need to clean up,” he says, then glances over at Even.  The look he startles on Even’s face is so affectionate, so filled with joy that Isak’s heart bursts.  He’s carried this crush with him for so long that he never expected it to get to this point, and yet here he is with Even looking at him like  _ that, _ and it’s so much.

“Running away from me again?” Even asks, his voice filled with fond amusement.

“Asshole.  I was never running,” Isak says.  “I  _ told _ you … I was giving you space.”

“Mmmmm,” Even says.  “I seem to have heard something similar last night.”  There’s a vulnerability in his voice that makes Isak frown.  It’s like Even’s trying to ask something but doesn’t have the words.

“Yeah,” he says.  “I did say that, and it’s still true.”

“Okay.”  Even breathes out a small sigh, but then his bright smile is back and he’s running his nose along the bridge of Isak’s again and Isak’s breath is caught once more.  “Okay, you should go wash up.”

Isak kisses him again, then makes himself roll over and get up.  He glances back at Even in the bed as he makes his way to the door, sleep pants newly on again.  Even’s face slips so quickly into a blinding grin that Isak thinks he might have imagined the flicker of sadness that covered it in the moment before Even noticed him looking.  He’s so beautiful, with his blond hair loose from its usual style and matted to his forehead with sweat. His red lips, puffy and dark from all the kissing, and his eyes, so blue as they twinkle at Isak.  Resisting the urge to go back and kiss Even again, and maybe repeat what they just did, Isak forces himself to turn and leave the room.

No-one’s around when Isak slips out into the main room.  They must all have gone over to the other cabin to eat before getting everything ready to head home today.  He’s grateful; he doesn’t think he could face some of the knowing looks and innuendo that he knows his friends would bestow on him if they could see him now.  He’s sure he must look a sight, hair mussed and clothes awry. Not to mention the stink of sex he must be carrying. 

He hums through his shower, takes his time cleaning himself, remembers the feel of Even’s hands on him with every pass of his own hands over his body.   It’s been a long time since Isak can remember being this relaxed and happy. He really must tell Even, he thinks. It’s all his fault, even after such a short time. Or maybe that’s the magic of orgasm.  

Still humming softly to himself after the shower, Isak exits the bathroom and makes his way back to their bedroom.  He’s looking forward to sharing looks with Even, to cuddles, maybe even some more kisses. So it’s disappointing when the room turns out to be empty.  Even must have gone over to the other bathroom, Isak thinks. They were both quite gross so that makes sense. 

He dresses swiftly, unwilling to spend more time than necessary away from Even and steps to the door into the living room.  He’s halted by the sound of quiet voices, one unmistakably Even’s.

“He said space, Mikael.  That’s just … I know what that means.”

“Even,” Mikael says, and there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.  “You can’t possibly know what he meant if you don’t ask him.”

“Did you forget the whole business with Sonja?” Even asks, and there’s so much vulnerability in his voice that Isak’s heart squeezes in his chest.  He wants to rush out there, wrap his arms around Even and soothe away all his upsets. But not knowing how much Mikael knows, and a hesitation to intrude, stills his feet.

“Isak’s not Sonja,” Mikael says, confused bewilderment starting to creep into his voice.

“Yeah, I know.  But you didn’t hear the tone.   _ Space.” _  Even spits the word out, as if it’s a curse.  “Exactly the way she said it; as if it’s for my benefit.  But when she said it, underneath it all she meant she wanted to give herself space.”

“That doesn’t mean he feels the same way,” Mikael says.  Isak silently blesses him for going in to bat for him like this, but it’s not making much of an impression on Even.

“You don’t get it,” he says.  “Every time we’re together I can tell he’s holding back, like he’s waiting for something better.”  Even sighs. “Just like she did. I can’t … how do I go through that again?”

“But he really likes you,” Mikael protests.  “The way he looks at you is kind of … gross, but also really nice.  You  _ deserve _ that.”

Isak blushes, hard, at the words.  He’d thought he’d kept a good lid on his feelings, covered them up.  But apparently he’s been transparent and obvious. Worse, apparently Even has picked up on Isak’s hesitations but has misjudged where they came from.

“I don’t know,” Even says, his voice weary and unhappy.  “He hasn’t been all that keen to spend time with me, and everything … everything has been me, from my side.  I’m not sure he really wants it at all.” He sighs. “And  _ space, _ Mikael.  Like I’m some sort of plaything, to fuck and put aside.  Like last time.”

“Even …” MIkael starts, but Isak doesn’t wait to hear more.  

His heart hammering, he backs away from the door and scoots backwards into their room.   _ Fuck. _  That’s not at all what he meant by saying he was giving Even space, but he can understand why Even feels the way he does.  The problem is, Isak’s not really sure how he can fix it. Not with the level of agony in Even’s voice as he talked to Mikael, not when they’re surrounded by people and get very little privacy.  But one thing is certain; Isak needs to try. He’s only just got this thing; he’s not about to let it slip through his fingers because Even has the wrong end of the stick. But saying something here, surrounded by all these guys, feels impossible.  Unraveling the stuff Even was saying, that’s going to take a while. Like maybe, Isak thinks in a flash of inspiration, during a couple of hours in a car together on the way home. All Isak has to do is act normally until they leave. He can do that.

So Isak takes a deep breath, shakes out his fingers and forces his shoulders to relax.  It’s been a long time since Isak’s had to act fake like this, but he’s had excellent practice in the past.  He squares his shoulders and counts out three minutes worth of seconds. It’s the longest three minutes of Isak’s life, but he figures that gives them time to move on in the conversation.

Deliberately knocking into the doorframe as he exits the room, Isak strides into the living area with a smile on his face.  It feels forced and unnatural, but he knows from experience that it’s one that convinces other people that he’s feeling confident and at ease.

“Hey guys,” he says, then stops.  After this morning, he might expect to approach Even differently but now he doesn’t know what to do.  He can feel the smile stiffen on his face and his body tense up. Acting normal is a little harder to navigate after this morning.  What’s Isak supposed to do now? Give Even a kiss? Stay away from him? How much are the other guys supposed to know? What would a post-handjob Isak do if he didn’t know how Even is feeling about the space thing?  He can’t quite decide so in the end he remains where he is, staring at Even as if at the headlights of an oncoming train.

In the long silence that follows, Even’s throat clearing is the only sound.  Isak hovers, watches the bright light in Even’s eyes dim a little as he takes in the way Isak stays stiff and awkward just inside the doorway.  Even glances over at Mikael and raises his eyebrows. Frowning, Mikael looks at Isak then nods at Even. They think they’re being subtle, the movements tiny and well hidden, but Isak knows what this is about so it makes acting natural all that much more difficult. 

“Uh, hi, Isak,” Mikael says and smiles.  It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he doesn’t quite meet Isak’s gaze.  “Did you see?”

“See what?” Isak asks, confused.  He glances around the cabin. There’s nothing here but the three of them and the same old furniture and strange art pieces on the walls.

“We’re snowed in.  Huge dumping overnight and there’s no way we’re getting cars out today.”

“What?  No. Fuck!” Isak says, his worry overcoming his awkwardness and sending him flying to the window.  Sure enough, when he peeks out he can see the ground is blanketed in the same blinding white that had seeped around their curtains this morning, and it’s obviously deep enough that it’s going to take a while to dig the cars out enough to leave.  Which … shit. How’s Isak possibly going to talk to Even alone with so many people around them, and none of them able to go anywhere? “This is a fucking  _ disaster.” _

He spins to look at the other guys and sees Even’s face, shadowed and sad as he looks at Isak.  It’s worse even than before, as if Isak’s confirmed every fear Even had just in these last few minutes.  He opens his mouth to ask if Even will come and talk to him in their room, when the front door bursts open and Eskild and Adam come flying into the room and the moment is lost.  Even’s face smoothes out into his usual delighted grin and the conversation intrudes. 

The next hour or so is agony.  Isak is forced to pretend that everything is fine and that nothing has changed since yesterday, when he’s consumed by the fact that  _ everything _ has changed.  Twice. The boys all laugh and joke, eat breakfast, go outside and have a snowball fight.  

Isak slopes inside early.  Even’s in the midst of it all, bright and beautiful, his stunning smile bestowed on everyone but Isak.  The way he looks at Isak, contemplative and sad, makes Isak’s heart ache. More than once, he wishes he had enough balls to just say, “fuck it, Even, let’s just talk.”  But he’s not brave enough, despite opening his mouth to do just that several times. There’s something different in being able to speak when it’s just the two of them in their duvet bubble.  Doing it so blatantly, surrounded by so many other people … Isak can’t manage to get the words out. All he can do is console himself that there is tonight, and that if he can just get through today, then tonight he can climb into bed with Even and tell him all this shit and then everything will be  _ fine. _

He’s taking his boots off by the wall heater, when Jonas pushes the door open and slips in after him.  “Isak, what the fuck is up with you?”

Trying to stay casual, Isak turns his back to Jonas and keeps fiddling with the laces on his boots.  “Nothing. I’m fine. Just … still a little sore.”

Which isn’t a lie, exactly, but isn’t entirely the truth either and Isak can feel the irritated disbelief coming off Jonas even with his back turned to him.

“Bullshit,” Jonas says, coming over to sit next to Isak and work on his own boots.  “You’re acting weirder than usual today, and you’re not even your normal level of grumpy.  More just plain sad.”

Isak shrugs, schools his face as well as he can.  “I don’t know what to tell you,” he says. “I don’t like being stuck here.”

Jonas gives him a look; one that’s well known to Isak.  One that says  _ you’re being a dick. _  “None of us does, but this is more than that.”

Huffing a sigh, Isak turns to look at him properly.  There’s a set to his shoulders and a glint in his eye that Isak knows far too well.  “You’re not going to give up, are you?” At Jonas’s head shake, he slumps and relents.  “It’s Even.”

“Even?  Seriously?  Is this why he’s been looking like death warmed over all morning?”

“I … uh.  We might have … there might be a thing with me and Even,” Isak says, his voice cracked and barely above a whisper.  It’s harder than he’d expected to actually get the words out, now that the ‘thing’ is in such a fragile state so soon after beginning.

Jonas whispers something that sounds suspiciously like, “finally,” before he says, “so what’s the problem then?  Why aren’t you off being disgusting with him somewhere? God knows both of you can be terrible with making googly eyes at your partners; together you should be unstoppably gross.”

Isak shrugs again.  “He thinks I don’t want him.  I heard him talking to Mikael this morning, and it’s like he thinks … this is a game to me?  Or something?” Jonas lets out an interested hum so Isak continues, building up steam. “I don’t get it?  He’s so weird. Like, why would anyone think like that?” Isak sighs again before looking over at his friend.  “I don’t care what he thinks, anyway. I’ve just got to get over it, and fuck him and his stupid issues.”

The door to the cabin bangs shut and Isak startles, spinning to look at it.  Jonas must have left it open and now it’s blown shut, making Isak’s heart pound unpleasantly.  It’s enough to stop his rant, though, and he looks at Jonas helplessly, wanting some sort of reassurance from his friend.

“You do care, Isak,” Jonas says gently.  “You’re pretending you don’t but you really do.  So you should just talk to him.”

Letting out another aggrieved sigh, Isak nods.  “Yeah,” he says. “I do. But I’m not good with words.  What if I fuck it up even more?”

Jonas laughs, pats him on the back.  “You won’t,” he says. “I have faith in Evak.”

“You have faith in what?”

“Nothing.” Jonas laughs again, shaking his head.  “Just something Magnus said once … but like, just … talk to Even.  Be straight up.”

Isak nods.  “Yeah,” he says.  “I guess so.”

That proves harder to do than expected.  Even avoids Isak for the entire rest of the day.  If Isak enters a room, Even leaves it. It’s subtle, and the excuses all seem plausible:   _ I need the bathroom, I have to check on dinner, I have to charge my phone. _  But it’s a pattern and Isak is attuned to pattern and nuance anyway, and particularly when it relates to Even.  Even with the most plausible explanation, Even seldom returns in any hurry and is often out for up to half an hour.  Still, Isak reminds himself again, there’s tonight, when they’ll be in a bed together and he can hopefully say something to Even and have it all go to plan and end in more of the delightful touching he’d experienced so briefly this morning.

So it’s with more enthusiasm than usual that Isak bounces up from the table at the first hint of a yawn from Mutta.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice as cheerful as he can make it.  ‘It’s been a tiring day. Better get some sleep before we head home tomorrow.”

“You’re dreaming if you think we’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Adam says.  “It’s not shifted at all, and they’re not expecting anyone to do anything about it just yet.”

“Best to be prepared,” Isak says cheerfully.  He’s trying to catch Even’s eye but Even’s attention is entirely on Mikael, who looks exasperated.  So Isak gives his most ostentatious stretch and yawn combination, and ignores the sniggers from Magnus and Mahdi, who are casting looks between him and Even as if they think this might all just be a ruse to get into the room to do some fucking.  To be fair, that’s what Isak would  _ like _ to be doing.  But he doesn’t expect it, not tonight, not after Even’s been so damn weird all day.

Jonas, bless him, obviously figures it out and says, “yeah it is getting a bit late and I’m tired, too.”

“It’s only 9, though,” Elias protests.  “Who can sleep at this time?”

“It’s been a hell of a long, boring day though,” Jonas says.  “No wonder everyone wants some chill time alone.”

Isak doesn’t bother staying to hear anymore.  “You all can stay up all night, if you want,” he says.  “I’m tired and I’m going to sleep.”

He glances over at Even and catches a considering look on his face.  But it’s overlaid with such sadness that Isak’s heart squeezes. Whatever’s going on here, it seems it must be more than ‘space’ issues, and Isak’s quietly despairing as he walks through the deep snow drift between the two cabins.  He’s reminded so badly of the day when he was cold and Even held him to warm him up. It’s such a contrast to this evening that Isak can feel his hopes deflating. Something’s changed with Even, and it doesn’t look much like he’s interested in talking it out.

Sure enough, by the time Isak has washed and changed into his sleepwear and returned to the bedroom, Even is huddled in the furthest corner of the bed with his back to Isak and the covers pulled right up to his ears.

“Even,” Isak says softly as he climbs into bed beside him.  “Can I please just explain?”

Even’s only response is to pull the covers more firmly over himself and act like he hasn’t heard.  Isak stares at him for a long moment, but he doesn’t move at all.

“Even …” he starts, but stops as Even rolls closer to the wall and hunches up even more.

Isak slips down into his own duvet and shivers.  It’s only been a couple of days since they started sharing all bedding together, and yet it feels alien to have Even so far away and with such a frosty tension radiating off him.  Isak pulls his own blankets around him and tries to sleep, but lies awake late into the night, listening to Even’s breathing slowly changing as he falls asleep still pressed to the wall as far from Isak as he can get.


	5. awkwardness and avoidance

It’s warm when Isak wakes, giving him a comforting feeling that vaguely nags at him.  There’s some reason why he shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t be feeling so comforted and refreshed, but Isak can’t quite remember what it is.  Then there’s a soft humming breath whispering over his neck and Isak freezes. Even is pressed close to him again, his arms snuggled around Isak and his nose in its accustomed position against his neck.  Isak’s heart breaks; he knows this can’t possibly mean what he wants it to mean because Even was so adamant in staying away from him last night. 

Knowing he shouldn’t give in to this, knowing he has no right to enjoy it, Isak still allows himself to stay in this bubble, allows himself to soak in for one final time the way it feels to have Even cuddled up around him.  His smell surrounds Isak along with his warmth and it’s so  _ good _ that Isak has to close his eyes to shut out the sadness he can feel creeping in.  

Even stirs behind him and Isak forces himself to remain still, to pretend he didn’t wake up to this, that he didn’t take advantage of Even and his body’s muscle memory.  For one shining moment, as Even clutches at Isak with the arm that’s over his hip, Isak lets himself hope that Even’s got over whatever it was that had bugged him so much yesterday.  But then Even stiffens behind him.

“Fuck,” Even says, his voice quiet and panicked, and Isak can feel the pain lancing through his chest.

He makes himself lie still while Even slowly and carefully works on extricating himself from the embrace.  Eventually it gets too much and Isak forces himself to snuffle a little and roll as if in sleep to let Even remove his arm more easily.  Then he hears Even moving behind him, listens until he’s slid to the end and shuffled off the bed, then hears his footsteps fading in the distance as he goes into the other room.

Isak’s not one to cry much, but he can’t help it today.  A few tears slip out while he contemplates his situation.  All he wants is to grab Even, drag him somewhere and explain all this shit so that he’ll just bloody listen.  But how’s he supposed to do that when Even is so clearly doing whatever he can to avoid being in the same place as Isak?

Sighing, Isak makes himself wait a few minutes before getting up himself, brushing his hands over his eyes to get rid of any telltale evidence and heading out to the living area himself.  Even’s sitting there, looking relaxed and happy as he chats with Eskild who is making a pile of toast. Isak screws up his nose as he makes his way to the table and carefully sits down opposite Even.  There’s no point in calling attention to their frostiness after all, and sitting next to Even could cause all sorts of issues. It’s not because Isak is too much of a coward to try it.

“There’s no use being like that, Isak,” Eskild says, catching Isak’s face as he sits and stares glumly at the pile of toast.  “We didn’t have enough eggs and cereal for so many days. So it’s this or nothing.”

“Why did we bring enough beer to last us for a whole week, but not enough food?” Isak complains as he butters a slice and takes a bite.

Adam laughs as he enters the room.  “Because we’re all stupid, that’s why,” he says.  “Also because only half of us drink but we all eat.”

“It was still dumb,” Isak frets.  “What if we’re stuck here for days more?  We’ll starve.”

“We won’t starve.”  

Even’s voice startles Isak, and he looks up and into those beautiful blue eyes.  There’s something sitting in them; it’s a mixture of sadness and concern and it twists something in Isak’s heart, something both painful and warm.  “There’s a shop along the road,” Even adds. “They don’t have much but they do have bread.”

“Great,” Eskild says, bringing the rest of the toast to the table.  “We can have bread and water like real prisoners.”

Jonas laughs as he comes into the room.  “Trust me to be here with the three most dramatic people on the face of the planet.”  He lifts a hand to forestall the complaint Isak is about to make. “There’s plenty of food, and we’ll cope.  We just might have to get a bit creative.” He looks over at Even. “You could whip up something, I’m sure,” he says.

“Yeah, I guess,” Even agrees slowly.  “Depending on what we have.”

“Great,” Jonas says, grinning.  He claps his hands in front of his body  “That’s settled then. Even’s cooking, and …”  He grins suddenly, a wicked, quick burst of amusement which doesn’t bode well.  Sure enough, Jonas continues, “and Isak can help you. He was so useful last time.”

Even’s face blanches in the very short moment he allows himself to react.  He hesitates between bites of his toast, but then smiles benignly, flicking his eyes in Isak’s direction.  “Sure, I guess.”

Isak glares at Jonas, tries to signal how monumentally stupid that idea is, but Jonas just stares him down.  The grin he gives Isak is unrepentant, and he shrugs. 

Even pushes up from the table and makes his way back into the bedroom, his face set in a pleasant, careful mask.  Isak kicks himself for how easily he is able to recognize the insincerity. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Isak hisses at Jonas once Even has gone.  “You know how shit everything is right now.”

“I know you’re being a dick and you just need to grow some backbone and talk to him.  So,” Jonas knocks Isak’s shoulder playfully, “maybe try to talk to him while you’re cooking.” 

“If he’ll actually listen to me,” Isak mutters morosely as he glances in the direction of their room.  If Even can’t even stay in the room with him, what chance does Isak have of talking to him even when they’re cooking?

It’s with a degree of trepidation that Isak approaches the kitchen a few hours later.  Even’s kept up his slow avoidance of Isak for the rest of the day, and much as Isak doesn’t want to admit it … that hurts.  Even’s his usual charming self with everyone else, but it’s like Isak doesn’t exist at all. Or not exactly doesn’t exist, but more is a polite stranger.  Isak gets the feeling that if he could, Even would have disappeared rather than having to stick around where Isak is. But since they are stuck here together, Even has found as many ways of not-being where Isak is as he can.

Even’s rummaging through the cupboard when Isak finally forces himself to go into the kitchen area later that afternoon.  He’s humming, and it sounds mildly displeased.

“Even?” Isak asks, as carefully polite as he can make his voice.  “What do you want me to do?”

Even glances up at him, and shakes his head.  “I don’t know,” he says, obviously exasperated.  Isak hopes the exasperation is with the food situation and not with Isak.  “Maybe get stuff out of the fridge and see what we have?”

By the time they have everything out and arrayed on the table and counter again, Isak’s heart is in his shoes.  It looks like none of it will work together. Isak sighs. “This is a mess.”

Even nods, agreeing.  “What do you think? Are we getting out of here tomorrow?”  It’s more stilted than Even has been in the past, and his voice is clipped and more hurried than usual, but at least Even is talking to Isak in a relatively normal way.  It allows Isak to relax a little.

“I hope so,” Isak says, sighing again as he looks at the jumble of food.  “They have at least cleared off the roads. All we have to do is get the cars out now.”

“Okay,” Even says.  “Then I think we just take all this and use it all.”

Isak gives another cautious glance at the pile of foods Even has assembled.  There’s a fairly large amount of vegetables, a small amount of already cooked chickpeas, some small bags with a few bits of pasta, some cheese, bread, one small jar of pasta sauce, and a lot of spices.

“All of it?” he asks dubiously.

Even’s eyes are suddenly twinkling.  “Yeah, all of it,” he says. “Apart from bread for tomorrow’s toasty breakfast delight.  But not all in one thing. You are going to make some delicious cheese toasts and I am going to make vegetable, pasta, and chickpea stew.”

Isak huffs.  “Cheese toasts?”

“Yeah,” Even says.  “I’m sure you can manage that much, cooking master.”

“Fuck you,” Isak mumbles under his breath, but he’s smiling because this is the most civil Even has been in almost two days and it’s just so nice to have a normal Even again, even if that means he’s teasing Isak.  Even’s eyes are twinkling as he looks over at Isak, and some tiny bit of tension loosens itself from Isak’s chest. He lets his smile widen as he holds Even’s gaze and is gratified to see a tiny blush sit high on Even’s cheekbones when he finally drags his eye away from Isak’s.

They work steadily after that.  Isak prepares the toasts, but doesn’t cook them yet because, as Even points out, no one wants to eat cold cheese toasts.  Eventually, he ends up helping Even with the stew, being put on stirring duty while Even adds the spices. Isak has no idea how he’s done it, but as it simmers a waft of some enticing smell drifts out of the pot and Isak closes his eyes and inhales appreciatively.

“That smells so amazing,” he says as he opens his eyes and smiles over at Even.  

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Even says, his voice oddly cracked.

Isak realizes this is his chance, so he lets his smile become softer and shakes his head.  “No,” he says, letting all his fondness seep into his voice. “Only the ones I really like.”

Even gapes at Isak for a long moment before saying, “the ones you …”

“Really like, yeah.”  Isak takes in a deep breath, carefully lays the wooden spoon he’s been stirring with on the edge of the pot and turns to Even so he has his full attention.  “I have to apologize,” he says. “I heard what you said to Mikael yesterday.”

“Oh.”  There’s strain in Even’s voice and he seems agitated, as if he wants to leave this situation.  His hands are clenched into fists and he keeps glancing to the side as if testing his exit possibilities.

“That’s not … you know that’s not what I meant by ‘space’, right?”  Isak can hear the quiver in his own voice and shrugs, trying to force his body to just behave itself for a few seconds.  He needs it to stop being an asshole and let him get through this with at least some of his dignity in place.

“I don’t know, Isak,” Even says and the hurt is right back there in his voice.  “You didn’t seem to want to do anything and you always got so tense when I touched you.  I figured … you probably just wanted some little hookup when you finally did agree.”

“Fuck.”  Isak grimaces and takes a step towards Even.  “I didn’t mean for you to think that. I thought I was being too obvious about my feelings and that I had to try to hide how I felt.”

“Why would you need to hide?”

Even’s twinkle is back and his grin is its usual crinkly masterpiece.  Isak’s not sure why his words have had that effect, but he’s not going to question it.  Not considering the fact that he’s completely fucked and having a hard time keeping focused.

“Because I thought you had a girlfriend and that I was being a creepy asshole.”

Even laughs, and it’s finally the glorious, cheerful sound Isak’s been dying over ever since he first heard it at that party so long ago.

“You’re about as creepy as a tiny puppy dog,” Even says, turning back to the stew and giving it another stir.  His cheeks are red again and there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It’s more adorable than it has any right to be.

“Shut up!  I could so be creepy if I wanted to.”

Even squints at Isak.  “Are you seriously arguing in favor of your own creepiness?”

Isak allows himself to laugh, allows his hand to settle on Even’s waist, allows his fingers to press a confirmation of his feelings into Even’s back.  In return, Even glances sideways at Isak and lets his eyes sparkle. They’re still looking, drinking in the moment, when Mutta and Eskild crash through the door.

“Where’s the food?  I’m starving!” Mutta announces, flopping down into one of the chairs at the table and giving them a beseeching look.

“You’re just going to have to wait,” Even says, stepping away from Isak slightly and stirring the pot with heightened color on his cheeks.  “Isak hasn’t even made the toasts.”

“You dick," Isak says, but he can hear the traitorous fondness in his voice.  "You know I was just waiting for your stupid stew to be done.”

“Mmmmm, keep telling yourself that,” Even says, “but we all know the truth: that you’re just too slow.”  There’s so much affection behind his words and his smile that Isak can’t keep the grin off his own face.

“Ooooh,” Eskild says, glancing between the two of them.  “This is a definite defrosting of the relationship. Tell your guru everything, Isak.”

“You’re not my fucking guru, Eskild.  I keep telling you.”

“Why must you always trample on my dreams?” Eskild retorts, pressing an offended hand to his chest and huffing.  Once he gets the reaction he wants (an eyeroll and a “fuck you” from Isak), he presses on with his questions. “Did you two finally get over whatever stupidity you had going on and sort your shit out?”  He bounds over and pulls Isak into a hug, which Isak resists, pushing back until he has Eskild at arm’s length. “Please please tell me we don’t have to watch the terrible slow dance of idiocy anymore?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isak says in most polite voice.  “We’re just cooking here like perfectly good friends.”

Even laughs, the sound so boisterous that Isak can’t help but look at him, can feel the adoration that’s seeping onto his face before he can control it.  “Mmmm,” Even says. “Good friends who do very good friend stuff together.” He attempts a wink as he looks at Isak, but it ends up looking more like a solemn blink.  Isak is charmed anyway. The look in Even’s eyes is so pointed that Isak almost blushes when he drags his eyes away. It seems, from that look, that Even is willing to restart things where they left off yesterday morning.  It makes Isak’s knees go weak to think about it.

He smiles at Even, then, to distract himself from the suggestive nature of the glance Even just bestowed on him, Isak turns his attention to the cheese toasts.  He has to do them in two batches in the oven as there are too many for one. That means that by the time he slips into the seat that’s been left for him next to Even, most of them are gone and the stew pot is suspiciously low as well.

“What the fuck?” he squawks indignantly.  “Where’s all the food?”

“What?” Magnus says, half a cheese toast hanging out of his mouth.  “We’re all growing men; we need food.”

Disgruntled, Isak is about to argue, when Even places a bowl of the stew in front of him and slips one of the toasts next to it.  “Here,” he says. “I kept this for you.”

Ignoring the delighted grins of everyone around them, Isak thanks Even and then turns his full attention to the food.  The very delicious food which requires 110% of Isak’s attention. Eventually, they all quiet down and stop making obnoxious comments, probably put off by the supreme lack of response they’re getting back.  Isak allows himself one tiny glance sideways at Even and catches his eye. Even looks happy again, his face open and joyous as he looks around. There’s no arm along the back of Isak’s chair today, but there is a finger sitting beside his leg.  It’s not quite touching Isak, but its warmth still burns into his thigh. Isak lets his own hand drop down so he can run his own along Even’s hand, letting himself gently squeeze that finger between his own, once, before dropping it and picking up his spoon again.  It takes another beat or two before Isak manages to pull his eyes back to his food, though.

Mahdi groans.  “This is exactly as bad as I expected it to be,” he says.  

Isak glances up to see what he’s talking about, ready to defend Even’s food to the death if need be, and flushes when he sees so many sets of eyes all focused on the two of them.  Magnus is staring unabashedly, while the others are all trying to pretend to be somewhat interested in their food.

“Fuck all of you,” Isak says.  “As if you didn’t work to make it happen.”

“No idea what you mean, Baby Jesus,” Eskild says, taking a mouthful of the stew and opening his eyes as wide as he can in a suspicious show of innocence.  

“It’s just a nice casual getting to know you skiing trip between bros.  No other motive at all,” Adam says.

Even chokes on his spoonful and has to be saved by Elias, who’s sitting next to him.  “So you’re saying you didn’t all admit to it when I figured it out a few days ago?” Even says when he finally gets himself back under control.  He’s laughing, delighting in this moment, and Isak can feel himself melting. Against his will, because he feels like he should be angry as hell.  Did every single person here, except him, know what was going on? 

“You … you figured it out a few days ago?” Isak asks. Heat is flooding him at the implication.  That Even has been in on this too, that they all conspired against Isak.

“Mmmm,” Even agrees, crinkling his eyes at Isak.  “They weren’t exactly subtle with the car ride and the ‘oh no, you have to share the one big bed’ and everything.”

“I didn’t figure it out, though,” Isak says, feeling aggrieved.  “Why didn’t you say something, Jonas? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

Jonas shrugs.  “It was too much fun watching you squirm.”

“You guys are all assholes,” Isak says, standing as dramatically as he can and throwing his spoon on the table.  It makes a satisfying clatter as it spins and ends up resting by the plate that still holds one or two cheese toasts.  “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s only 7.30,” Jonas points out helpfully.

Isak ignores him, grabs the toast Even had laid out for him, takes another from the plate in the middle for good measure, and then marches out of the cabin and makes his way towards their own.

He’s sitting at the table in their cabin, shivering because it’s cold and like an asshole he forgot his jacket (again!) in the need to make as dramatic an exit as possible, when Even finds him.

“Isak,” he says, sliding into the seat next to him.  “Are you really annoyed?”

Isak eyes him, tilts his head to the side and tries to figure out what it is that he feels. “I don’t know,” he admits finally.  “It feels so weird to have been out of the loop when everyone else knew about it.”

Even nods, his eyes thoughtful and his expression solemn.  “I get that, I think. But I only knew because I so desperately wanted it to be true.”  He shifts restlessly. “It’s not … I didn’t mean to make you the only one.”

“Wanted what to be true?” Isak asks, hearing the huskiness in his voice.  

“That they all saw that we … we liked each other.”  Even’s blushing now and he’s staring at his hands as if they hold the answers to every mystery he’s ever met.  “I hoped they were right, and … and that you maybe did too.”

“You’re an idiot,” Isak says, fondly.  “Why couldn’t you just say something?”

“Couldn’t risk it,” Even says, reaching out to take Isak’s hand, sending a shiver of energy right through Isak from that one simple touch.  “Had to be sure.”

“And now?” Isak asks.

“Now I’m pretty sure,” Even says.  There’s a glint in his eye, suggesting that he’s going to move in to kiss Isak.  Isak’s breath hitches, and his own gaze snags on Even’s lips, how red they are, how plump.  How they’re a little chapped, but the sight of that chapping makes Isak’s toes curl because the roughened skin on those lips did stick a little when they kissed, making it longer, more drawn out, more sensuous.  

A high pitched giggle interrupts them, and Isak’s eyes snap towards the window.  Dimly, he can see Even’s head turning in the same direction and he groans when he sees what’s happening.  Elias, Jonas, Magnus, Mikael and Eskild are all lined up outside, peering in at the two of them.

Irritably, Isak marches to the window and drags the curtains to cover it.  The last thing he sees before he shuts out their irritating friends is Eskild’s grinning face and cheerful thumbs up.  He spins, leans against the window to hold the curtain closed, and stares at Even. He’s still sitting at the table, his eyes lit up and his smile infectious.  Isak can feel his irritation seeping away, lost in the power of that smile.

“Hey,” he says.  “You want to go to bed?”

Even’s expression shifts, deepens.  There’s promise in that gaze and Isak shivers again.  He holds his hand out, and his breath catches when Even stands as if drawn by a magnet and makes his way over to Isak.

“Yeah,” Even breathes shakily, taking that hand.  “Let’s go to bed.”

This time, Isak makes sure to show Even exactly how he’s feeling.  When Even stoops to get his sleepwear out of his bag, Isak steps close and lets his hand rest on Even’s back as he leans down to get his own stuff.  He lets that hand linger, trails it down across Even’s hip as he moves away. This time, Isak undresses where Even could see him if he wanted to. There’s no escape to the bathroom, no hint that he doesn’t want Even’s eyes on him.  In fact, when he straightens after pulling on his pants, Isak catches Even’s eyes and flushes. There’s so much heat in those eyes that Isak wonders how he missed it before.

“I have one question for you,” he says, dragging Even’s eyes from his torso and back up to his face.  “If you were in on it with the boys, why were you so careful with how you looked? How … how you never really looked at me much?”

“I wasn’t careful,” Even says, taking a step closer to Isak and letting his hands come to rest at Isak’s hips.  “I was showing it in every look I gave you.”

“Mmmm,” Isak says, almost letting himself get distracted by the lips that are now so close to his own and by the scent of Even that’s now swamping his senses again.  “None of those looks were like this one.”

“They were,” Even says softly, brushing the hair off Isak’s face, trailing his fingers along Isak’s cheek and jaw.  “You just weren’t seeing them.”

The look he’s giving is so intense that Isak can feel his heart melting, burned up in the fire that’s starting to consume him again.

It’s early still, but Isak goes through the motions of his evening routine anyway.  He doesn’t want anything to distract him tonight, so he brushes his teeth, washes his face, and gets ready for bed.  Sure, he may do it more perfunctorily than usual, but he still does it before rushing to get back to Even as fast as he can.

Even’s lying in bed, one arm slung over his head and the other held out in a welcome to Isak.  He’s so beautiful he takes Isak’s breath away. He stills in the doorway, caught in the delight of being able to look at this person and think that he’s chosen Isak.  He drinks in Even’s eyes, so blue and yet so warm, his jaw, the long line of his throat. The collarbones Isak had so admired on the drive here, now open and emphasizing the dips and hollows of his chest.  

“Hey,” Even says, his forehead creasing in confusion as he tries to figure out why Isak isn’t coming any closer.  

“Hi,” Isak whispers, the sounds of Even’s voice finally giving his feet the impetus they need to send him towards the bed.

It’s nice, like coming home, when Even pulls him in as soon as he lies down.  They snuggle, legs interlocked and foreheads pressed together. The sound of Even’s breathing, harsh as if he’s run a marathon, makes Isak’s chest flutter with anticipation, and he sighs into a warm kiss that nevertheless manages to light up every synapse in his body.  Isak lets himself get lost in the moment, enjoying how it feels to be able to do this.

But it’s so new and fragile that Isak finds himself pulling back a little, separating their lips, looking at Even to see how he’s doing.

“Even?”

“Mmmm?”

“I don’t … I think …” Isak takes a deep breath and lets his nose run along Even’s before he speaks again.  He’s not running the risk of more misunderstandings. Not now that he has Even back again, so that means there’s only one thing for it.  “I think we should talk a bit more.”

“Yeah,” Even says, his eyes serious as he twists a lock of Isak’s hair around his finger.  Isak shivers as Even’s fingers brush his temple at every turn, so it’s hard to focus on the truth behind Even’s next words even though it’s a truth Isak also expressed.  “You’re probably right. We probably need to talk.”


	6. flirting and fondness

That sounds easy in theory:  _ we probably need to talk _ .  But for a long beat neither of them speaks.  Even keeps up the steady twirl of his fingers in Isak’s hair and Isak lets his fingers run circles on Even’s hip, brushing between the rough cotton of his pants and the smooth softness of his skin.  It’s soothing, almost soporific in its own way and Isak’s fairly sure he’d be asleep by now if it wasn't so early and his own skin wasn't tingling with so many flares where Even’s touch has lit him up.

“I’m sorry,” Isak says finally, when the silence becomes too much and he needs to fill it with  _ something. _  He looks into Even’s eyes and smiles.  “I should have talked to you yesterday, then this wouldn’t have been so awkward.”

“No,” Even says softly, and his hand stills in Isak’s hair.  “I heard you and Jonas talking yesterday too. I wouldn’t … I couldn’t have let myself listen to you then.”

_ Fuck. _  Isak frantically tries to think back to what he said and he shudders when he figures it out.  “The door? That was you?”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Even agrees.  “I was coming to try to talk to you because Mikael gave me such a lecture about it.”  Even laughs fondly in memory, but then his face sobers again and he looks at Isak carefully.  “But I couldn’t do it. I heard you talking and I left. Right after you said you don’t care about me and what I think and … something about my issues.”

Isak sits up, pulled out of the soft sweetness of the moment by the pain in Even’s voice.  “I’m … I didn’t mean it, Even. I was hurt and upset and …” He slumps, realizing he needs to stop trying to justify it.  “It doesn’t matter anyway. That stuff I said was really shit, and I’m sorry.”

“Isak.”  Even grabs his arm and pulls until Isak has moved back into his arms.  “It’s okay, I get it. I know that’s not what you meant, but I do … I do have issues, and I guess I overreacted.”

“Your bipolar stuff,” Isak says, letting out a breath and internally beating himself up.  He hadn’t even  _ thought _ of that.  But of course that’s where Even’s mind went.

As if he can sense Isak’s fears, Even laughs softly and reaches out to press one hand onto Isak’s forehead.  “It’s fine, Isak. I’m okay, and I got over it. I just … wasn’t in a good place to listen yesterday.”

“But you are today?  Even though you avoided me right through the day until we were cooking?”  Isak can’t help teasing Even, now that he’s here and isn’t showing signs of shutting down or running away again, now that it seems okay to do that again.  

Even’s answering grin is wicked.  “Yeah. Because when we were cooking you looked so dorky that I couldn't resist.”

“Dorky?!  I will have you know I’m a master chef and can cook you under a table.  My skills are legendary.”

“Mmmmm,” Even says, his eyes alight and a disbelieving smile on his face.  “That’s why you can’t even cook pumpkin?”

“Asshole,” Isak mutters.  “I don’t cook with vegetables.  But you can come over sometime and I will show you my skills.”

“You’d really have me over?”

Isak blinks at him, caught by the sudden vulnerability in Even’s voice during what he had perceived as silly banter.  “Of course. I thought … I thought this was a … a thing now.” He sucks in a shaky breath and looks at Even carefully.  “Was I wrong?”

“No,” Even says, a slow-blooming smile appearing on his face.  “You weren’t wrong. I just wanted to be sure you’re on the same page.”

“I am,” Isak says, letting everything he feels seep into his voice.  “I’ve wanted you for so long I never believed it could ever be real.”

“It’s real,” Even says, and makes sure to emphasize it with a burning kiss.

By the time the kiss is over, Isak has one leg hooked over Even’s thigh and his hard dick is pressed against Even’s hip.  He can dimly feel Even’s dick as well and they’re both breathing heavily when they pull back.

“Can I … can we ... “ Isak presses against Even to illustrate what he’s trying to say.

“You can’t even say it, Isak,” Even says, pressing a fond kiss to his lips.  “I’m not sure we should …”

“Oh, fuck you,” Isak says, scowling as he pushes against Even again.  “I want to have sex with you, you dork. Is that okay?”

“Mmmm,” Even says, trying to look casual, but Isak can see the fire burning in his eyes and can feel the way his dick twitches against Isak’s leg.  “I think …” he kisses Isak again, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

And that’s all it takes.  Isak pushes on Even’s shoulder until he rolls onto his back so Isak can slide up and straddle his hips.  It puts their clothed dicks close together but not touching and Even growls. “All in good time,” Isak says, grinning.  “We have all night.”

He leans down so he can brush his lips over Even’s, letting his tongue flick out and into Even’s mouth.  It draws a very satisfying groan from Even and Isak smiles. He wants to show Even just how much he wants this, wants Even.  There’s no way he’s going to allow Even to carry on thinking this was all one sided and that Isak did nothing to reciprocate.

He sits back, rests his ass on Even’s legs and splays his hands wide on the pale expanse of Even’s chest.  The way Even is looking at him makes Isak dizzy, and he can’t bring himself to wait much longer. He lets his hands move, purposefully now, flicking over the nipples that have become hard on Even’s chest, running lightly down to his sides, making his skin shiver in the wake of Isak’s fingers.  Even’s eyes flicker shut and he lets out a soft hum of appreciation.

“You’re so beautiful,” Isak says, then leans down so he can use his tongue on the collarbones he’s admired so often, caressing and sucking.  Even shudders and his hands roam up Isak’s thighs, coming to rest so his thumbs brush lightly over the bulge under Isak’s sleepwear. Isak sucks in a sharp breath, making Even whimper as the breath rushes over the slick, wet collarbone Isak has just been sucking on.

“You have too many clothes on,” Even says against Isak’s ear.  “I want to see you.”

Isak slides back so he’s sitting up again, which allows Even easier access to his dick.  As Isak rips the sleeping shirt over his head, Even presses his thumbs firmly over Isak’s clothed dick and squeezes suggestively.  Impatient now, Isak doesn’t even pretend he’s trying to make things last anymore. He moves enough so they can both get everything off, then presses between Even’s legs so their dicks can align.

“What do you want?” he whispers into Even’s mouth as he kisses him deeply and rubs against him.  Fire builds in him again and he lets out a breathy, sighing laugh at his own predictability. “I want to give you everything.”

Even’s eyes go wide and desperate at the rough tone in Isak’s voice and he presses up for a kiss.  “I want you in me,” he says, with a groan. “If that’s okay.” 

“That’s more than okay,” Isak says, feeling a rush of adrenaline that he gets to do that, he gets to bury himself in Even, something he’d never allowed himself to hope for.  “That’s so fucking amazing.”

He pushes at Even until he’s lying with his back to Isak’s chest, with Isak’s hand wrapped firmly around his dick, and Isak’s own aching cock pressed up against the soft swell of Even’s ass.

“Is this okay?” he asks, letting his hand stroke Even slowly.  Even turns his head so he can see Isak’s eyes, and the smile he gives is perfect.  He kisses Isak, slow and sweet, as he presses back against Isak’s dick.

“Yeah,” Even breathes when they break the kiss.  His eyes are glazed and he looks stunning, his body beautiful where it lies in front of Isak’s, taut and quivering.  “Do you have lube?” Even asks, then, his voice hitching as Isak continues his slow strokes on Even’s dick. “And condoms?”

“Um … I didn’t exactly plan on any of this,” Isak says, his hand stilling for a moment as he worries about whether they can do this and groaning at the thought they may have to stop.  Even laughs.

“In my bag.  In the inside back pocket.  I always have some, just in case.”

Isak forces himself away from Even with one last kiss.  He scrabbles in Even’s bag, and does indeed find a half empty pack of condoms and some lube.

“You always assume sex is on the cards?” he asks as he crawls back onto the bed and slides back into place behind Even.

Even shrugs, his eyes mischievous when he glances back at Isak.  “It’s always good to be prepared, Isak,” he says, his voice prim even while he’s pushing back against Isak’s dick again in a very distracting way.

“That’s so fucking sexy,” Isak says, kissing the juncture of Even’s shoulder and his neck, making him shiver.

Even turns his head again to take Isak’s mouth in another searing kiss, which makes Isak’s dick twitch with impatience.  Even laughs, lets his fingers rise up to caress Isak’s hair. “I think you need to get inside me,” he says, letting his ass rut against Isak again.  

“I don’t want to to hurt you,” Isak protests, and Even shakes his head.

“I’m not a virgin, baby.  Not even with dicks or dick-like things, and this is how I like it.  If you go slow, it’ll be fine.” He kisses Isak again. “And I don’t want to wait.”

“Okay,” Isak agrees, wriggling so he can get a condom on, and cover himself in lube.  He adds a little more to his fingers and rubs them against Even’s rim. Even starts, sucking in a breath at the cool feeling of the lube, and Isak whispers his apology against Even’s neck.  He lets his fingers slide a little, presses in a tiny bit to make sure Even’s wet enough, then laughs as he hears Even’s impatient growl. “Okay, I’m ready,” Isak says. “ You okay?”

Even nods, then lets his head rest back onto Isak’s collarbone, his leg balance on Isak’s thigh for leverage, and his eyes fix onto Isak’s as Even’s hand reaches back to touch Isak’s hair.  The message is obvious:  _ get the fuck inside of me, _ so Isak presses in.  Even’s eyes flutter shut and he gasps at the intrusion.  It’s slower than usual, because Isak’s still wary that they haven’t opened Even up at all, but it feels so fucking good.  Even sighs, presses back slightly with his ass, and Isak can feel the way his body relaxes against his own as Isak’s dick pushes further inside.

Isak kisses him, his hand warm where it caresses Even’s neck as he pulls out a little, then pushes harder so he can bury himself to his balls.  Even groans against his mouth and Isak whispers, “Are you okay?”

Even’s eyes open again, and the look on his face is so affectionate that Isak can’t stop the grin that blooms on his own.  “I’m great, Isak,” Even says. “It’s amazing.”

“No, you’re amazing,” Isak says, kissing Even again.  There are days when he’d feel embarrassed by the sort of cheesiness he’s showing right now, but today it feels right and the flush that appears on Even’s cheeks suggests he likes it too.  

Holding Even firmly by the waist, Isak pulls back again and thrusts forward, punching a breathy moan from Even.  His head presses back further against Isak’s shoulder, exposing the long, beautiful length of his throat and Isak doesn’t have the sort of self control needed to not kiss it.  So he does, making Even moan and his fingers tighten in Isak’s hair. 

Isak pulls out again, this time fully, and Even whimpers at the loss.  Then he gives a breathy sigh as Isak pushes back in. Then again and again.  Even’s moans are becoming more incoherent as Isak thrusts against his prostate over and over again.  Even pushes his foot down onto Isak’s thigh in a way that should be painful, but instead just spurs Isak on.  He slips his hand over Even’s hip and takes hold of his dick. 

Even’s gasps become higher pitched at the touch and he whines as the pace picks up both on Isak’s dick and as he strokes Even.  Even’s fingers are now wound tightly into Isak’s hair, though he seems unaware of it, pulling slightly as Isak thrusts deep into him.  It feels so fucking good and Isak groans himself as the slight pain fires through his head.

“Fuck, Isak.  Fuck!” Even’s saying, the words broken as he tries to push back against Isak, the thrusts becoming more erratic now as they both rush towards their climax.  Isak kisses Even’s throat, nipping softly at the pale expanse as Even tenses, twists a little, and his hip pushes up from the bed. His mouth drops open and his eyes lock onto Isak’s.  His panting is hard and harsh in the quiet of the room and Isak is drowning in those beautiful blue eyes as Even finally spills over his hand and his body relaxes back down against Isak’s.

It’s good and Isak’s so close, but Even’s sensitive and his body skitters away from Isak’s fingers, skin shivering in their wake as Isak moves his hand to Even’s hips.  So Isak pulls out, biting his lip as Even still holds his gaze, his face sated and relaxed now. He rolls so he’s facing Isak and then takes his dick in his hand, pulling the condom off.  Leaning forward, Even presses one electric kiss to Isak’s lips while he strokes, and it’s only a few more seconds before Isak feels the telltale build up through his body and he, too, shudders to his own release.

He’s boneless and floating, held in place by Even’s hand firm on his back and his voice whispering endearments into his neck.  After a time that seems to last forever, Isak returns to himself, to find Even lying beside him, one hand still on Isak’s back but his mouth slackening as he breathes softly.  There’s a quality to those breaths that Isak knows intimately now, telling him that Even isn’t far from sleep. 

Isak smiles, smoothes the duvet over Even’s shoulder and presses a kiss to his tired face.  He looks small and vulnerable with his eyes closed, and Isak feels a strong moment of affection for him.  

“You’re a fucking dork,” he whispers against Even’s lips.  “But I really fucking like it.”

He pulls back a little so he can see Even’s face, and sees a tiny twitch on the corner of his lips.  “‘M not the dork,” Even says, his voice warm with sleep. “You’re the dork.” He smiles. “My dork.”

“Tired you out, huh?” Isak says, allowing himself a small satisfied smirk as he gazes fondly down at his sleeping boyfriend.  Boyfriend. That’s such a new, such a  _ startling, _ idea that Isak feels warmth pooling in his chest and can’t keep the grin from his face or out of his voice.  He tries out the word. “Boyfriend.”

Even’s eyes flicker open again and he smiles too.  “Boyfriend,” he repeats, and the satisfied wonder in his voice is enough to make Isak melt all over again.  “Too good,” Even says with a contented hum, then reaches out. His hand flops just out of reach, but the intention is clear.  “Come here? Want to snuggle.”

There’s no way Isak can resist that plea.  Not now that it’s all determined. They’re boyfriends, they can do this and it’s okay.  No more stiff fears that he’s taking advantage of Even. No more worries that it could all be lost in the morning.  So he scoots closer, lets Even tuck him in under his arm and rests his head on Even’s chest.

“Mmmmm,” Even says, his voice on the verge of sleep again almost immediately.  “You smell good.”

Isak shivers as Even’s breath whispers over Isak’s ear.  “I smell like I just fucked someone, you mean.”

“Yeah.  Good. Like I said.”

Isak laughs, lets himself settle further into Even’s embrace.  They’re still naked, still sweaty, still gross. But none of that matters because they’re here, warm in the duvets together.  It’s so nice for Isak to allow himself to give in to this. It feels like he’s wanted it forever, at least since that party where Even’s laugh lit up Isak’s world.  And now here he is, allowed to have this as much as he wants, as often as he wants. That thought is so much, so blissful it almost feels like he’s intoxicated. But there was no beer tonight.  So all of this is just Even and the effect he has on Isak. He sighs, lets his body succumb to the stupor he can feel approaching. Even’s arm tightens around him as his eyes drift closed. It’s so warm, so peaceful.  It’s all Isak has ever wanted.   
  


He blinks awake in the morning in their usual way.  Even’s arm is heavy on his hip, and they both have boners, Even’s poking into Isak’s ass.  Isak chuckles as he stretches and lets his hand reach up behind him to bury itself into Even’s hair.  Even hums softly, his breath a warm whisper on Isak’s neck. He could get used to this, Isak thinks. He’s just settling in to suggest a nice long cuddle, and some more sex, when there’s a crashing knock on the door.

“Oh, lovebirds?” Mikael yells.  “Are you decent?”

“Fuck off,” Even rumbles from behind Isak.  “We don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Sorry to interrupt what I’m sure is a touching and not at all improper moment,” Eskild chimes in, “but the snow’s all been dug out, and the cars are free, so we have to leave.  The manager man was very insistent.”

They knock loudly again as they shout their goodbyes and walk away giggling loudly.  Isak reluctantly slithers out from under Even’s arm, resisting his attempts to become the friendly octopus again.  Behind him, Isak can hear Even’s irritated grumbles and the shuffle of the stiff sheets as he moves. He glances behind him and into Even’s beautiful blue eyes.  They’re so warm and loving that Isak can’t resist. He leans over and kisses Even, lets his lips moves over Even’s, feels the insistent tug of his heart.

“Lie down again,” Even says, tugging on Isak’s arm to try to entice him, “I don’t want to leave here.”  

But Isak shakes his head.  “We have to go, baby.” He kisses Even again to lessen the blow.  “But just think, we get to start a new thing in Oslo.” He pulls back to smile down at Even.  “You. Me. A bed. No friends around.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Even says, pushing on Isak’s back to make him stand up, “we should leave immediately.”

Laughing, Isak gets up.  They have a quick breakfast and gather all their things together.  Smirking, Jonas pushes Isak towards Even’s car for the ride home.

“I’m not sure about this, Isak,” he says.  “I know how uncomfortable you feel having to be alone with Even for so long.  Maybe I should switch places with you.”

“Asshole,” Isak says, but can’t quite bring himself to be truly annoyed.  “You did that on purpose! Imagine how you’d have felt if I’d died from being in close proximity to a literal god on my way here.”

“A literal god, huh?” Even asks, pulling Isak into his side and kissing his hair.  “That’s a lot to live up to.”

“Oh, I got over that,” Isak says, smirking at Even.  “The farting at night was a real giveaway of your humanity.”

Even laughs, then opens the door for Isak.  “Your chariot, master of skiing and cooking … and other things.”

He winks, that solemn slow blink he does.  Isak can feel his cheeks heat at the implication, and holds Even’s eyes for a few beats too long.  Behind him, he can hear Mahdi choking on a laugh.

“Dear god,” Mahdi says.  “We didn’t think this through when we decided to try to sort their shit out.”  He shakes his head in fond amusement as Isak turns to look at him. “This is almost as painful as when they were pretending not to like each other.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Magnus says, with a small sigh.  

“You would,” Mahdi says, but he claps Isak on the back as he passes to get into Jonas’s car.  “I’m happy for you, bro. Just, maybe tone it down a little.”

Isak glances sideways at Even and shakes his head.  “Nah,” he says. “I think you all need to suffer. It’s the least we can do to pay you back for your kindness in bringing us here and trapping us together.”

Even laughs, and Isak thinks he’ll take as much teasing as the others can dish out just to hear that sound every day for the rest of forever.  For all his protestations and faked irritation, Isak is grateful that their friends love them enough, and could see their attraction to each other clearly enough, to do this.  It should be embarrassing that he’s been so obvious to so many for so long. But looking at Even, Isak wouldn’t change a thing. It got him here, it got him this.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, sliding onto the seat of Even’s car and shutting the door.

Back home.  Back to reality.  Back to something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're at the end <3 Happy Birthday again, Arin. I hope your year is amazing and that you enjoy it all <33


End file.
